The Nth Doctor Season 1
by WrightsEpicStuff
Summary: A future incarnation of the Doctor finds two new companions and goes on adventures. Modeled like a season of Doctor Who, with each story consisting of a prequel and four chapters. Old faces and new threats face the Nth Doctor.
1. Echoes: Prequel

Ralph Ganger sighed contentedly as he sat in his velvet chair after a hard day's work. Well, his definition of what he considered a hard day's work. His secretary had been exceptionally busy today, making up excuses for why Ganger couldn't make a meeting while he worked on his short game in his cavernous office in Canary Wharf. Ralph reached for the Scotch on his right and a tumbler to pour it into, believing he had made enough progress for a celebratory nightcap.

Normally Ralph would have had Frederick, his personal butler pour him his drink, but he had fallen ill the night before and Ganger had grudgingly given him the week off to recover. Ralph's stomach rumbled, a side effect of his private helicopter ride back to his Edinburgh mansion on the outskirts of the city proper. Shrugging it off and toasting the air, he downed the Scotch in one go, the alcohol burning his throat as it went down his swollen gullet. _Here's to my financial success_, he noted selfishly in the silence, not saying it aloud even though there was no chance of anyone hearing him. However, as he thought that selfish thought, something rather peculiar happened.

The silence replied.

_Cheers_. Ralph jumped, spilling ice over his red velvet robe. Looking around wildly, Ralph searched for a culprit but found none. _Funny, _he thought. _It's almost as if it came from my thoughts. Yet I heard it._

_You heard it._

Ralph, again startled by the disembodied voice, began to grow worried.

"Who's there?" he said aloud, thinking stupidly that he may stump the voice.

_You are. _He heard it echo through his mind, as if a thought from his own head coming to the front. As usual for a man who didn't have to really "work" for a living, Ralph was confused.

"Who is you?" Ralph stammered in the improper grammatical format, clutching his head in frustration. He stumbled around the room, grabbing a nearby letter opener for protection against the unseen intruder.

_You are. I am you. _The voice was growing stronger, weakening Ralph's confusion. _A voice in my head is claiming to be me? That makes perfect sense. _

_Of course it does. You are talking only to yourself._ Ralph relaxed, finding no need for his improvised weapon. However, as he tried to drop it, his hand was unresponsive. In fact, his entire body was now moving of its own volition towards the center of the room.

_You are very sad, Ralph. Depression has led you to your demise_. Ralph couldn't remember being sad before, but now he felt an overwhelming wave of sadness. Suddenly his right hand leapt up and brandished the letter opener in front of him, its point towards Ralph's chest.

_It will be over soon. Don't worry. It will be over soon. _Ralph experienced a wave of fear before he experienced darkness.


	2. Echoes:Truman Nedry and the Working Boss

The elevator was out of order, and he couldn't be any later as it was.

Truman Nedry sprinted up the stairs of his workplace, racing towards the meeting in progress on the 15th floor. Normally Truman was at least 15 minutes early for his job, taking the Underground from his London flat to the Canary Wharf Tube station right next to the building that housed Ganger Industries, his place of employment. However, a tunnel collapse prevented him from taking his usual route and instead enlisting the aid of his dust-covered bicycle. After waving a quick goodbye to his flatmate Windsor, he raced out the door, only to remember how terribly out of shape he was.

Gasping for air as he pushed his way into the office, he gave himself a once-over in the nearby mirror. His choppy black hair stood up everywhere, his dress shirt was drenched in sweat, his pants were caked at the bottom with sprinkles of mud, but the most important piece of his ensemble, his messenger bag, was thankfully present. He brushed down his hair, threw his bag on his desk and powerwalked to the conference room. Truman passed by the secretary Emily, who gave him a sour look as he briskly walked by.

"Sorry everyone! I'm here, we can start now," Truman said, hoping his terrible attempt at humor would get him off the hook.

It didn't.

"Sit down, imbecile!" shouted Stewart, Truman's annoying supervisor, who then promptly shoved him into an empty seat. As Truman gained his bearings, he noticed that his boss was leading the meetings.

He immediately became worried. Truman's boss never left his office; apparently he was far too busy to worry himself with the everyday proceedings of the office. The last time Truman could remember Ralph Ganger leading a meeting was to deliver massive layoffs to the company, layoffs Truman only avoided because he was an unpaid intern at the time and really didn't matter in the fiscal sense of things. However, he had worked his way up the ladder to his current job. This, sadly, made him more expendable.

"As I was saying before I was interrupted," continued Ganger, his eyes bearing deep into Truman. "All employees are required to undergo a physical provided by the company. We will hold them in conference room B and will proceed in alphabetical order. Anyone refusing to get a physical will be terminated. That is all." Upon finishing his grammatically perfect sentence, Ganger turned and left the room stiffly. The room filled with chatter as the employees left the room, leaving Truman alone with Stewart.

"Late again, Truman. Let's not make this a habit, huh?" Stewart slapped the back of Truman's head as he left the room, heading for conference room B. Fighting the urge to hit him back, Truman glumly walked back to his desk.

Only to find someone occupying it.

"Excuse me!" Truman roared, louder than he meant for it to be. The person at his desk turned, and Truman could see right off that this was no ordinary man. Yes, he looked rather ordinary, just an everyday office worker albeit with a somewhat strange fashion sense, but there was something about him Truman couldn't quite put his finger on.

"You're excused!" the stranger roared back cheerfully as he returned to his fiddling on Truman's computer. Truman almost let him off the hook, figuring he might just be a new IT worker putting updates on his computer, but then he remembered that someone had already done that three days ago.

"That's my desk! And my computer! What are you playing at?" The stranger turned again, a smile still plastered on his face. Truman had never seen such a cheerful man, especially one his age. Everyone he knew his age (especially Windsor) was inundated with a sense of being ripped off, and as such acted glumly. However, this man who couldn't be a day over 29 beamed brighter than sunlight after a hangover while performing who knows what on Truman's computer.

"Oh is it? Sorry, it's a lovely computer and all, works just the way I want it to. Well, almost," the stranger said, producing a pen-like device from the pocket of his jacket. He pointed it at the computer, and the tip lit up purple and made a strange sound. Truman could see his computer screen change from his screensaver of Egypt (he always wanted to go to Egypt) to strange circular patterns. "There! Now that it's connected, you can have your computer back!" The stranger hopped to his feet and cheerfully waved goodbye to Truman, who promptly chased after him.

"Did what to my computer? Connected it to what?" Truman asked as he followed the stranger around the cubicles of the office. As he rounded a corner he accidentally knocked into Stewart.

Truman froze, knowing a scolding would come, but Stewart kept walking, his gaze fixed on some point in front of him. Brushing it off, he turned the corner, only to find the stranger vanished. Defeated, he returned to his cubicle and found his screen functioning normally and displaying the pyramids of Giza.

He sighed, ready to finally start work after such a trying morning. Time passed by slowly for Truman, who had mountains of work to do but no motivation to get it done. Everyone around him at some point had gotten up to receive their physical, which Truman would have also done had he not been to the doctors two weeks prior to confirm he was not the father of a former flame's child. While there he had gotten his physical. As he was filling out an order form towards the end of the day, Emily stood at his doorway.

"Have you received your physical today?" she said stiffly, looking at Truman with the same searing look Ganger gave him.

"Um, no. I'm not up yet, I think they're on the H's?" replied Truman jokingly, who returned to his work. Noticing Emily was still standing over him, he fished in his desk for a grouping of papers. "I really don't need a physical; I had one two weeks ago and checked out fine. Here's the forms." Suddenly Emily grabbed him, her hand immediately cutting off circulation in his arm and causing the papers to drop from his hand. He couldn't remember the secretary ever being this strong, and he had been slapped by her before.

"You will go now!" She led him out of his office, and Truman looked around to see if anyone was noticing him being manhandled by the diminutive receptionist. Oddly everyone in their vicinity had the same vacant looks in their eyes, and no one seemed to notice them. Something was wrong, and Truman became very keen not to get his physical.

He struggled against Emily, whose grip only tightened as they neared the conference room. Truman noticed a strange mist coming from under the closed door, and drew back in horror.

_BANG! _A loud noise sounded behind them, and Truman felt Emily's hand vanish from his arm as she turned to investigate. Seeing his opportunity, Truman bolted, running quickly towards the exit passed all his vacant coworkers. Those who he passed tried to reach out and grab him, each one getting closer and closer as Truman drew closer and closer to the exit. As he turned a corner he hit something hard and fell to the ground.

Above him stood the stranger, who looked down at him with suspicion.

"Say something to me," he said gravely, anger flashing in his eyes unexpectedly. However, Truman noticed the stranger's glare wasn't the same as the others, so he complied.

"I'm not sure what to say," he admitted, but apparently this was good enough for the stranger, who lifted him up with surprising strength to his feet.

"Run!" yelled the stranger and Truman complied, leading the way out the door to the exit as the stranger followed him. Soon they were out of the office, and the stranger took the lead. He rounded several corners with a deftness Truman had trouble replicating, and he soon found himself slowing down tremendously. The approaching footsteps behind him gave him a second wind, and he chased after his savior, who had come to a stop in front of something terribly out of place in an office building.

In front of Truman and the stranger stood a rather new looking old fashioned police box, which apparently belonged to the stranger who was unlocking it with a key he produced from his pocket.

"Get in!" the stranger ordered, and Truman was all too happy to obey. He collapsed in a heap inside, his energy absolutely spent. The stranger came in next, stepping over the prone Truman and closing the door behind him as banging echoed through the box. Truman, who was beached on the ground, turned on to his back and looked at his surroundings.

If his breath wasn't already gone from fatigue it would have been taken away by what was inside the police box. He found himself in a large room; too large to fit into the ordinary police box Truman remembered entering. In the center of the room was a console filled with more buttons, knobs, levers, twisters, pullers and gears than he had ever seen before. In the very middle of the console was a giant piston-like device that reminded Truman vaguely of an oil well. The stranger was currently dashing around the console, putting the largest Bop-It Truman had ever seen to work as the piston moved up and down, causing a groan-like grinding sound. Truman rose to his feet and immediately felt sick, partly from his run and partly from this absolutely impossible room.

"Not in the best shape, are we?" the stranger yelled across the room, his eyes shooting across the console.

"Oi! I didn't think my coworkers would turn zombie horde!" responded Truman, who was in what could best be described as a standing fetal position. "What is this place? It's bigger on the inside!"

"I never get tired of hearing that!" the stranger said, a grin plastered on his face. "It's called a TARDIS, Time And Relative Dimension In Space. It's like a time machine I guess you could say, but since the Earth has moved a million different places over a million different years, we can go to, say, 15th century England instead of, say, 15th century empty space." _He obviously likes to talk_, thought Truman.

"Oh, like the DeLorean!" Truman exclaimed, immediately becoming excited about reliving his favorite movie from the 80's.

"Oh, sod the DeLorean, this is better!" the stranger said, looking cross. "I don't leave a bloody flame trail that could start a forest fire." He left the console and approached Truman, giving him a once over before producing the device Truman recognized from before.

"Hey, that's what you used to mess up my computer! What's your game here? Did you do this to my coworkers?" Truman asked as the stranger ran the device up and down Truman's body.

"No, something else is at work, look." The stranger threw a travel pass holder at Truman, who opened it up. The paper inside displayed a constantly changing landscape of wavy lines and furious zigzags. "The psychic paper started displaying this. People's minds in your office are going haywire and crying for help, and I need to find out why. Have you a flat we could go to?"

Truman looked at the man oddly as he ran back to the console. "How are we supposed to get there? We're surrounded by zombies!"

"First off, I don't think they're zombies, more like psychologically distressed humans out for our heads. Second, listen." Truman listened. 

"I don't hear anything."

"Exactly." The stranger walked towards the door, and Truman ran to intercept him.

"No, don't!" Truman was too late, the door was wide open. However, none of his coworkers poured into the room like he had pictured. Instead, Truman looked out the door and discovered they weren't in his office anymore, but rather in the middle of Piccadilly Square.

"See? No problemo! Hmm, I actually quite like that word, problemo. Think I'll use it more often. Much better than correctomundo by a long shot. Now, where is this flat of yours… Sorry I didn't catch your name."

"Truman, Truman Nedry. And who are you?" The man smiled, and shoved his hands in his pockets.

"I'm the Doctor, and we are going to get to the bottom of this!"


	3. Echoes: The Duke of Windsor

"I called it! I knew you were gay!" Windsor jumped up and down excitedly at his revelation; not moments ago Truman walked into their flat with none other than a man in tow. After years of busting Truman on his latent homosexuality, Windsor's persistence finally paid off.

"What? No! This is, um… This is some guy…" Truman stammered, trying desperately to come up with a legitimate excuse as to why this complete stranger was in their flat.

"I'm the Doctor!" exclaimed the Doctor, who quickly crossed the room and shook Winston's hand. "Truman's got some work problems. People-being-controlled-by-an-unknown-entity-type problems. It's probably aliens, my specialty. And you are?"

"Windsor Duke. Did you say aliens?" he asked, looking past the Doctor at Truman with a skeptical look.

"Oh yes, lovely, beautiful, deadly aliens!" replied the Doctor, his eyes growing wide with excitement. "Now, Duke of Windsor, Truman says you're quite handy with brain activity, being a neurosurgeon and all. Maybe you can help figure this all out." The Doctor reached into his pocket and pulled out an impossibly complex mechanical device that beeped every five seconds.

"What on Earth is that?" Truman yelled as he looked over the Doctor's shoulder.

"No, not Earth, Truman," the Doctor scolded. "Not a very good listener, are you? Now D of W, what can you tell me about these brainwaves?" Windsor studied the device before noticing the screen that displayed what he was looking for.

"Hmm, that's very odd. It seems like there's… Two different brainwaves appearing at once. One is definitely more subdued than the other one, almost as if it's being oppressed." The Doctor smiled.

"Yes, my thoughts exactly. Now, what can cause that? Can't be post hypnotic suggestion, doesn't explain the second brainwave. Can't be a parasite because it's appearing in more than one person and its oppressing instead of feeding off of it, definitely not a parasite's modus operundi." He frantically paced around the room, the tail end of his corduroy jacket whipping about.

"I'm sorry, are you saying that there's more than one person affected by this… ailment?" Windsor asked. The Doctor turned and addressed him.

"Don't be stupid, Duke," said the Doctor. "It's not an ailment."

"Sir, if I may?" Truman offered, his hand raised like a schoolboy trying to get the professor's attention. Both of them looked at him expectedly. "It looks like the brainwaves are identical." Sure enough both brainwaves reacted the same way, following the same erratic pathway as the opposite.

"Great observation, Truman!" The Doctor jumped up and grabbed the device from Windsor's hand and took out his glowing device Truman had finally gotten used to. "They are identical! However, it seems like the oppressing one is a millisecond behind the pushed down one. It's almost as if it's copying it, pretending to be the original, posing in order to fool the rest of the body into submission! Outstanding!" The Doctor ran out of the flat and into his ship, and Truman followed after him.

This time prepared for the anomalistic box, Truman shadowed the Doctor at the main console as he frantically typed away at a keyboard placed in front of the monitor.

"Alright, with the specifications given to us from the biometric scan and the astute outstanding observation made by dear Truman, we should be able to narrow down just what exactly we are dealing with. AHA!" With one triumphant stroke of a key, the Doctor beamed at the display on the screen.

Truman would have joined in if he could read the strange circle writing.

"What does it say?" Truman inquired.

"What we are dealing with," the Doctor explained, "is a simple case of the Ideos. They can latch on to a single idea that presides in every being's mind, and through that they can control the body gradually. The more bodies they control the easier it becomes and the less resistance they experience. We're seeing the process happening right now in this scan. The Ideos are pushing the original brainwaves down to the point of crushing it out of the body, effectively killing the original host. Funny though, Ideos have always been satisfied with non-sentient objects and beings. Their power is great enough that they can embody a toothpick and make a pretty decent living from it. Why switch to humans, and why now? It's quite a stain for them to control something this large and complex, I've noticed they've been focusing on controlling the bodies so much that they're unable to use contractions. Save them a lot of time if they switched over though…"

Truman was absolutely baffled about what the Doctor was babbling on about. Ideos? Brainwaves? Toothpicks? What did any of this have to do with him? He was just a lowly desk clerk, trying to make a meager living working at a job he hated for absolutely no real gain. He desperately wanted a girlfriend, someone to love, but it was beginning to look like that would never happen and he would just have to accept that.

But then all of a sudden his coworkers are being placed under the spell by Idiots or whatever they're called, and this man with this impossible police box and his strange glow stick and his frustrating choice of clothing (although he did have to admit he kind of pulled it off) comes and tells him that aliens exist and a small space can actually become a huge space and that his entire life is most likely a lie.

Truman was pissed, and he relayed that to the Doctor.

To paraphrase, Truman basically told the Doctor everything mentioned in the above paragraphs with a few choice words added in for effect. Throughout it all, the Doctor smiled, obviously used to this kind of reaction.

"What in the bloody hell are you smiling about?" Truman shouted. "The entire world is in danger!"

"I know," admitted the Doctor. "Isn't it outstanding?"

"Um, guys?" Windsor's voice sounded from outside the TARDIS. The Doctor and Truman rushed back into the flat, where Windsor was staring intently at the television and looking worried.

"Oh, don't stare too close, Duke of Windsor. Sometimes the telly will suck your face clean off," the Doctor warned, sounding completely serious for someone who just told a joke. However, Truman soon found out what exactly what Windsor was sweating about.

The television screen displayed the familiar skyline of Canary Wharf that Truman had learned to love and hate. It didn't take long for Truman to find out what exactly his workplace was on the news for.

In actuality, his workplace wasn't really on the news.

This was because One Canada Square was missing. Truman turned to the Doctor, hoping he would be able to offer some explanation, but he noticed that the Doctor has an even more horrified look on his face. This was because the Doctor knew something about One Canada Square that most people in existence didn't know.

One Canada Square was the former home of the Torchwood Institute.

Torchwood Tower had disappeared.


	4. Echoes: Glimpse of the Past

The Doctor had returned to the TARDIS, babbling on about needing to make a phone call. Windsor pulled Truman into their kitchen, his eyes wide with fear and confusion.

"What in God's name have you gotten us into, Truman? This Doctor person seems dangerous, and you can't deny strange things are happening with him here."

"I don't know Windsor. I have a good feeling about him is all. He saved me from my coworkers, so he can't be all that bad," Truman replied sheepishly. Although he felt the need to argue with Windsor, he couldn't help but see his point. It DID seem like everything that had happened revolved around his appearance. However, Truman knew that he just had to trust the man who saved his life and comply with whatever he said.

The Doctor returned and beckoned the duo into the TARDIS.

"Well, just had an interesting phone call from a friend. Apparently his company hadn't moved all of their belongings from the tower after the Battle of Canary Wharf, so we have a motive for the Ideos to steal the building." Truman had no idea what any of that meant.

"What friend, Doctor?" asked Truman.

"No one of consequence," replied the Doctor. "However, what was left in the building is vitally important. The company had changed locations after the Battle of Canary Wharf, which I'm sure you both remember." They shook their heads. "Why doesn't anyone ever remember that? Anyway, when they moved they didn't quite have the time or manpower to move all of their equipment, instead timelocking it to a certain period and a certain location to make sure it didn't fall into unwieldy hands. However, it seems as if the Ideos have discovered this cache's location in the tower and are working to try and unlock it." He looked the men over as he spoke, and noticed the looks of absolute confusion on their faces.

The Doctor sighed and tried again. "Bad aliens have discovered technology that can unravel the universe and we need to stop them."

"But how can we do that, Doctor? The building's disappeared!" exclaimed Windsor, who absolutely wanted nothing more to do with this mad man and his box.

"Wait, I remember you tampered with my computer and connected it to something. Can you possibly trace the signal on my desktop through the TARDIS?" asked Truman, giving the Doctor hope that he was able to get at least one competent companion.

"Absolutely, Truman! Outstanding!" He dashed to the console and keyed in a long sequence of numbers. The screen displayed the results, to Truman's surprise, in English.

"Well, you would timelock it there, Captain," the Doctor muttered to himself. Truman read the display: 21 January 1941, London, England.

"What's so special about that date, besides it being during the Blitz?" Windsor inquired, his interest piqued due to his love of World War II.

"That's the day we first met," said the Doctor, not caring to elaborate any more than that. "Now I won't ask either of you to go any farther if you don't want to, but I have to go to London in the middle of the Blitz to stop an alien race from doing bad things." The flatmates looked at each other, nodded, and shut the TARDIS door. The Doctor smiled.

"Excellent! Here we go!"

Within moments the trio found themselves right in the middle of a war-torn London street, with fires smoldering all around them and the air raid horn blaring in their ears. Windsor stood in awe, experiencing for the first time something he'd only seen in history books and museums. Whoever this Doctor was, he was brilliant, fantastic even. However, the Doctor soon pulled Windsor from his awe.

"Come along, Duke. We've got to find the building quickly and avoid dangers. You know, bombs going off, kids asking if you're their mummy, evils like that," the Doctor implored, dragging Windsor by his sleeve as Truman brought up the rear.

"Are you just going to leave your TARDIS in the middle of a battlefield?" asked Truman.

"Oh yeah, should be fine. Has a chameleon circuit that diverts attention from it, and just to be safe I'll shift it out a nanosecond," explained the Doctor, pointing his sonic behind him as the TARDIS faded away. "Truman, you're in charge of remembering where we parked!" They had broken into full sprint, the Doctor leading the charge with his sonic screwdriver placed firmly in front of him to act as a compass, Windsor next looking wide eyed and amazed, and Truman struggling a few feet behind.

As they drew nearer to what Truman could barely make out to be Trafalgar Square, the trio caught a glimpse of the first signs of life they had seen since landing: a man in a leather jacket running giddily towards an unseen destination, another man in a greatcoat right behind him, and a blonde girl holding the first man's hand and looking somewhat terrified in an anacronistic Union Jack t-shirt. The Doctor stopped suddenly at the sight of the three, a look of longing plastered on his normally gleeful face. It lasted only for a second, but Truman had noticed it. The Doctor was looking at the girl.

Windsor, however, was oblivious to this fact.

"Doctor, we need to find the building, right? Then we can explore this awesome place!"

"Right. Right you are, Windsor. No time to dally. Andiamo!" yelled the Doctor triumphantly, his mood evidently restored. With a renewed fervor the three ran through the smoking streets of London until they came across an invisible barrier.

"Ok, so this seems to be it then, eh?" Truman asked. The Doctor nodded as he ran the sonic up and down the invisible wall until giving up in frustration.

"Bah, its deadlock sealed. Can't get in this way. I really need to fix that problem, everyone and their aunt seems to have a deadlock seal nowadays." The Doctor began rummaging around in his pockets for something, but then soon gave up on that too. Truman looked dejectedly at the empty space that supposedly held his workplace, and then remembered something.

"Doctor, I think I know a way in." The Doctor perked up and approached Truman. "I couldn't get to work on time because of a tunnel collapse in the tube. I'm thinking that if that tunnel conveniently collapsed on the day the building disappears…"

"Then the tunnel must be connected in the timelock too! Oh, outstanding, Truman! Now all we have to do is find an entrance to the underground and we should be able to get in." The Doctor gleefully slapped Truman on the back, the force of which knocked the wind out of the already winded Truman. Pushing past the keeled over companion, the Doctor made his way to what seemed to be an underground bunker, pulling it open and climbing down.

"Should we go after him?" asked Truman, who had finally caught his breath.

"Of course we should, stupid. It's not brain surgery," chided Windsor with the same joke he always used to belittle Truman. He chuckled to himself as he climbed down after their leader. Truman, frowning, followed soon after.

The tunnel was pitch black, the only light resonating from the tip of the whirring sonic a few feet in front of where Truman touched down. He picked up his pace, accidentally bumping into Windsor who cursed at him.

"You don't happen to have a torch handy, do you Doctor?" Truman inquired.

"Sorry, we'll have to rely on my sonic." The Doctor kept his eyes firmly ahead, looking for signs of hidden dangers.

"Doctor, I noticed that look on your face when you saw those people running. Do you know them?" The Doctor looked gravely at Truman.

"Very observant again, Truman. Yes, I know them. All too well, actually. The one in the greatcoat was the person who told me about the timelock, although he doesn't know it at this point. Time's weird like that. The other person was, well, me." Truman gave him an incredulous look. "It'll take too long to explain the details all to you right now, Truman, but for some reason this timelock is allowing me to cross into my own time stream even though it would normally be impossible. If I was to meet my past self, well, it's best if I don't. Regardless, it seems this hijacking of your workplace may be more than meets the eye. Fancy a jelly baby?" He reached to give the candy to Truman, who ate it gladly. He had forgotten to eat lunch after being manhandled by the possessed secretary.

"What about the girl, Doctor? Who was she?"

"Doctor, I felt something brush against my leg!" Windsor yelled from behind them, causing them to turn around. Windsor stood frozen, obviously frightened by his perceived threat. However, a quick scan with the pulsing light showed no tentacle or appendage that could have scared Windsor, so they pressed on.

"Ah the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel!" the Doctor exclaimed with a grin. Truman said a silent thanks to be rid of the darkness that had enveloped them for what seemed like hours. They entered a hallway that was not typical of a WWII war bunker. It was polished metal on all sides, with various circuitry and blinking lights surrounding them.

"Looks like Torchwood made these lower levels for their operations," noted the Doctor as he placed his sonic screwdriver back in his pocket. Truman was astounded; how could all of this be underneath a place he's known for all these years? He chalked it up to just another experience with the Doctor.

They reached a doorway that seemed to be welded shut, something Truman reasoned the Idiosyncrasies did when they captured the building to avoid infiltration.

"You don't happen to have a lightsaber on you, do you Truman?" the Doctor asked as he probed the door for an alternative way in.

"Should've asked him before we left the flat, Doctor. He could have lent you the one he won at a convention that was used in the actual movies," Windsor quipped, pissing Truman off even more.

"When the opportunity comes around to own a lightsaber that Luke Skywalker wielded, you take it, Windsor," Truman defended.

"I have to agree with Truman on this one, Duke. Star Wars is cool. AHA!" The Doctor ripped the wiring out of the panel next to the door, causing the welding binding the two pieces together to melt off. "Torchwood is always prepared for everything!"

"Doctor, that is literally impossible," Windsor pointed out.

"Never question an easy way out," replied the Doctor. "Seems the door didn't quite like that." He held up his hand to his companions, showing the cut that he got from the wires.

On the top floor of the building the Ideos watched these events unfold, satisfied that everything was going to plan. The cut had given them the exact amount of blood needed to confirm their suspicions. The Ideo controlling Ralph Ganger read the results aloud to their leader.

"Master, the reading has confirmed that this individual is indeed a Time Lord," he said with a bow, his head averting the gaze of their overseer. "The Doctor has arrived. What are your orders?"

The eyestalk of their leader regarded Ganger with metal coldness as the warbled, toxic voice responded.

"Exterminate!"


	5. Echoes: Violence in the Library

"WE NEED A BANDAID, STAT!" yelled Truman as he scrambled around the metal corridor searching in vain for the adhesive strip that could save the Doctor's life.

"Oh, piss off, Truman. It's a cut, that's all," Windsor blew off, smacking the whirling dervish that was Truman in the back of the head. The Doctor smirked.

"Not a fan of blood, eh Truman?" he teased, sucking his wound with a manic glee. "No worries, we'll rid you of that fear in no time! Lots worse to fear in the universe! Stone angels that'll displace you in the blink of an eye, salt and pepper shakers with disintegration beams, living mannequin dolls, you name it!" The Doctor pressed onward, forcing Truman to overcome his once overwhelming fear of blood in order to fight his encroaching fear of being left alone in an alien hallway. They twisted and turned around corridors, facing the endless labyrinth of cold steel walls until they came upon a familiar broken panel.

"Well we seem to have gotten turned around," the Doctor noted, pacing from wall to wall to figure out the next plan of attack. Truman was tired, and decided to lean against the wall to rest.

Windsor was nowhere to be found.

"Where has the Duke gone off to?" asked the Doctor, spinning around in circles in search of their lost companion. The halls were silent, giving them no hint at where the brain surgeon had popped off to.

"I could have sworn he was right behind me." Truman began calling out his name, only to be silenced by the Doctor.

"Not too loudly. We never know what prying ears may be listening in," he explained in a sinister whisper, sending goosebumps down Truman's spine. Suddenly Windsor came running around the corner sporting a bloodied cricket bat.

"Where the hell have you two been? I must have been lost for weeks! I ran into thousands of them in this giant library, they were all attacking me, but I fended them off," Windsor said proudly, hoping to earn merit from the Doctor or Truman.

Instead the Doctor pinned him against the wall.

"We NEVER resort to violence!" he yelled, tossing Windsor's cricket bat to the ground. "Those were innocent people who had no control over their bodies, not a score tally in Grand Theft Auto."

"It was me or them, Doctor," Windsor spat, refusing to back down or apologize. "Next time well try the pacifist way and see where that gets us."

"Um, guys?" Truman interjected, looking worried.

They ignored him.

"You could have killed them! Innocents bludgeoned to death by a cricket bat!"

"You think I don't know about senseless deaths? I've failed to save more people on the operating table than you can ever imagine. I live with those deaths every day. I know what needs to be done, and I'm going to do it."

"Guys…"

"You want to talk about deaths? I've condemned entire races, planets full of people from my mistakes. You think your load is great? Think again!"

"GUYS!" yelled Truman, finally grabbing their attention. They looked up, and saw that they were completely surrounded by Ideo-controlled people.

"Well, Doctor," Windsor said quietly. "Looks like we get to do this the peaceful way like you wanted."

They found themselves in a vast room styled as a 19th century library filled to the brim with leather bound volumes and comfortable chairs. In the middle of the room stood Ralph Ganger, who gestured around him as his captives were brought before him and tied into the comfortable chairs.

Truman was especially thankful for the comfy chairs, as he was about ready to pass out.

"Who ties people up anymore?" the Doctor asked aloud as if genuinely curious about the question.

"Welcome, Doctor and friends, to the Master Library. We have been waiting for you to try and break your way into this facility," Ganger bellowed.

"I'm just going to take a shot in the dark and say you're the head Ideo?" the Doctor ventured, looking calmer Truman noticed, than he had when arguing with Windsor. He actually seemed jovial when talking to the leader!

"You are correct, Doctor. But there is someone much higher than us in charge here. He has enlightened us to a new way of thinking, to expanding our minds to accomplish what we never could have dreamed of."

"OK, boys," the Doctor whispered under his breath to Truman and Windsor. "We need a plan of attack. If we can generate enough noise we may be able to distract the Ideos enough for the humans inside to regain control and expel them from their bodies. Downside is it could potentially kill them, so start thinking of other options." The group looked back up at Ganger, who had turned abruptly and bowed towards the opening door. A lone Dalek rolled into view, causing the Doctor to seize up.

"Hello, Doctor," the Dalek warbled. The synthesized voice sent shivers down Truman's spine. He looked over at the frozen Doctor, realizing the Doctor recognized the giant pepper shaker. _It doesn't seem that intimidating_, Truman thought.

_So why does the Doctor seem so alarmed?_

"But how?" the Doctor stammered. "How are you here? You were gone, I made sure of it!" Anger seeped back into his voice, and Truman began to understand that the Doctor must have a history with this robot.

"Daleks are a supreme race able to withstand anything," the Dalek stated. "Your trap could not hold all of us for long, Doctor."

"Doctor, we need a plan," Windsor said, looking worriedly around the room at the Ideos. The Doctor shook his head, snapped out of the trance of seeing his old adversaries alive again.

"Um, right you are Windsor," he muttered, his face still registering shock. "Did you think of anything?"

"I rather liked your first plan since it involved incapacitating basically everyone in the room except us," Windsor coldly stated. Truman looked at him in shock.

"The Doctor said it might kill everyone!"

"Risk versus reward, Truman," replied Windsor, who tapped his leg impatiently. "Listen Doctor, I'll bet that sonic device of yours could create that amount of noise needed."

"Windsor, I can't possibly do that to these people," the Doctor said, although Truman noticed something in his eyes that said he was starting to agree with Windsor.

"What other alternative do we have?"

"How about NOT KILLING EVERYONE?" Truman yelled, causing the library to fall silent and the trio to remember that they were, in fact, still hostages.

"Escape is useless!" the Dalek noted. "We have planned for every possible outcome!" Windsor looked at the Doctor.

"Look, if you don't want to be the one to do it, I will." The Doctor stared at him, contemplating his words with the utmost care as Truman frantically gyrated his disapproval.

With a deft hand the Doctor shimmied the sonic out of his pocket and tossed it to Windsor. "Psychic interface, point and think," the Doctor breathed, his features looking dead.

"Account for this, tin can," Windsor yelled as he pointed the sonic upward and powered it on.

Truman was bombarded with a harsh noise, causing him to reactively reach for his ears only to remember that he was tied up. He looked around him in his pain and saw the Ideos violently shaking as they clutched their heads in agony. Screams of pain filled the library as they all fell to the floor.

Windsor jumped up from his chair, having freed himself from his ropes and untied his other two captives. The noise stopped, and Truman regained enough equilibrium to properly look around. Bodies littered the floor unmoving. He ran up to the nearest one, Stewart, and checked for any signs of life.

Much to his chagrin, Stewart was breathing.

Truman let loose a sigh of relief that the plan had worked without fatalities (even if his annoying supervisor survived) and joined the Doctor and Windsor in their triumphant pose as they regarded the Dalek.

"Retreat! Retreat! Activate emergency temporal shift!" the Dalek scrambled, activating the emergency temporal shift to retreat. Windsor ran after him, only to be stopped by the Doctor.

"Let him go. Small fish, Duke of Windsor," he said.

Truman waited until they were in the TARDIS and the building was back in its proper place before he laid into them.

"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL WERE THE TWO OF YOU THINKING?" Truman roared, taking Windsor and the Doctor by surprise. "You could have killed everyone! What happened to not resorting to violence? Where's that moral code you were preaching about earlier?"

The Doctor looked forlornly around the room.

"Truman, you have to understand that sometimes…"

"Bull, Doctor. That is bull and you know it! Don't try to justify placing this whole building at risk just for us to escape. I know you're better than that. We didn't even find out what they came there for in the first place," Truman stared down the Doctor, who relented.

"You're absolutely right, Truman. In the past I've had companions that have stopped me from any rash decisions, kept me checked and balanced. Lately I've been travelling alone and have lost sight of that restraint. I need someone to tell me when to stop. I'm hoping you can fill that void, Truman." The Doctor reached towards Truman, offering him his hand to shake. After what seemed like ages Truman shook it, and found a key in his palm.

"What about me, Doctor?" Windsor asked, tapping impatiently on the dash of the TARDIS.

"First off stop that tapping, its rather annoying." Windsor complied. "Thanks. Now, I will let you come along too, but only if you never EVER use violent means to get your way again. Got that?" Windsor nodded, and the Doctor tossed him his own key. The Doctor began to smile.

"Now, a few ground rules before we take off. Rule one: don't wander off. I've had many different first rules throughout my incarnations but this one seems to apply best to you two. Next rule: when I say run, you run. We're going to be doing a lot of running on our journey so Truman, you'll have to hit the gym. It's the third door down past the billiard room." The Doctor continued, ignoring Truman's confused looks. As the Doctor continued listing his rules, he thought back to the last time he had a companion, the terrible fate that befell upon her, and promised himself he wouldn't let it happen again.

Truman, after recovering from his confusion, grew excited as the Doctor continued speaking. Now was his chance to travel to faraway lands and actually do something with his life. He thought to his mother, who no doubt was fixing up dinner for his father and younger brother at the moment, and wondered if she would approve of it. He knew his younger brother Danny would be absolutely thrilled for him, and would want to come along. His father, well, his father would probably just grunt and continue reading his paper.

He pushed that thought from his mind. He had the beginning of the rest of his life ahead of him with the Doctor, and he wasn't going to let anything or anyone spoil it.

Windsor resumed his tapping unconsciously as he listened to the Doctor's rules.

Hell, this beat working the late shift at the hospital.


	6. The Stained Cloth: Prequel

"The entire universe is up for grabs; we can travel to anywhere at any time at all, and you decide you want to go to Ancient Egypt?"

Windsor was dumbfounded by his flatmate's choice of destination. They could see the future, meet dead celebrities, and Truman wanted to go into the middle of the bleeding desert.

"I always wanted to visit the pharaohs and see the tombs and how they lived! My screensaver is the pyramids, Windsor! You know this!" Truman defended, showing Windsor his phone as proof.

The Doctor grabbed the phone from his hand.

"That reminds me," he said, waving his sonic screwdriver up and down the phone before tossing it back to Truman, who fumbled with it until it clanged on the floor of the TARDIS. "Universal roaming. Now we can contact each other in case SOMEONE," he glared at Windsor, "decides to wander off."

"Look, it was one time!" Windsor stated, tapping on the TARDIS console.

"Would you stop that tapping! You're giving me a headache!" moaned the Doctor. "And besides, Ancient Egypt is a fantastic time! Marvelous people, the Egyptians. I've wrestled dinosaurs with Queen Nefertiti, played checkers with the young King Tutankhamen, and don't get me started on those slaves that built the Sphinx. The stories they have…" he smiled and flipped a few switches on the console. "Besides, Duke of Windsor. You get next pick."

This seemed to satisfy Windsor, who gave Truman a triumphant smirk. The TARDIS rocked as they slipped through the timestream, passing unfathomable wonders and unspeakable horrors to reach their destination.

The Doctor stepped out into the bright Egyptian sun and looked around. They were somewhat off course, but the half-completed pyramids were just over the horizon.

"GAHH!" Windsor yelled as he entered the light. "I can already feel my sensitive skin roasting alive."

"Oh, shut up you ponce," Truman laughed as he rubbed sunscreen on his arms and face. "Fancy some suntan lotion, Doctor?"

"Nah, I've never needed it," he replied. "Funnily enough though, I should have skin cancer from the amount of suns I've been in contact with. Chalk it up to Time Lord physiology I guess. Well we have a bit of a walk ahead of us gents. Shall we?"

"Can't we use that motorcycle I saw parked near the billiard room?" whined Windsor.

"And get sand in the spokes? Do you have any idea what that'll do to the transmission?" the Doctor exclaimed as they began their journey. Truman adjusted his wide brimmed sunhat (Windsor had teased him about it in the TARDIS) and looked over at his suffering friend. This was clearly not his territory.

"The sooner we get out of here, the better," Windsor complained. Suddenly a shadow fell across him. In fact, it fell across everything in the desert.

"Did the sun just set?" asked Truman, looking at the Doctor for an explanation.

"It did more than that," the Doctor began, his cheery demeanor vanished. "It disappeared!"


	7. Stained Cloth: Cultural Differences

By the time they arrived in the town, the sun had inexplicably reappeared in the sky, as if its disappearance was nothing but a mirage caused by the desert heat.

"It was gone, wasn't it?" asked Truman, looking around for panicked civilians and apocalyptic fissures. Finding none he turned to the Doctor. "I feel like these people should be reacting more… frightened?"

"I agree," the Doctor stated. He walked up to a man carrying a basin of water. "Excuse me, sir. Notice anything unusual happening around these parts?"

The man looked at the Doctor. "None more than usual, sir. Been a bit cooler than usual, but the priests attribute that to a change of season. Winter I think they called it?" He walked away, precariously balancing his water with one hand.

"Why was he speaking English? Don't they have their own language here?" questioned Windsor. "Something's rotten in Denmark, Doctor, and I don't like it."

"Oh, relax Duke. It's the TARDIS's work. It's translating both our words and the local's words in order to make a beautiful gumbo stew of language. Really comes in handy when trying to talk down a Mongolian horde. Believe me, I know from experience. I do agree there's something happening here. What it is ain't exactly clear. Wait, that's Buffalo Springfield."

"Doctor, could you focus?" Truman asked, giving him a chastising look. The Doctor nodded vigorously and pointed to the palace a few yards away.

"Shall we poll the royalty then?" Truman and Windsor found themselves struggling to keep up with the Doctor, who was bounding towards the pharaoh's dwelling with youthful enthusiasm.

The gates were barred, but a quick flash of psychic paper gained them access. The trio found themselves in a room covered in gold. Windsor's greedy eyes cased the room for a bauble he could take back with him before falling on a rather disturbing sight.

"My god!" Windsor exclaimed. "They've written all over the walls! Who could have caused such vandalism? Looks like the youth of yesterday were the same breed of brats as the youth of today."

"Actually Windsor," Truman explained. "I think those are the hieroglyphics."

"Nonsense! Aren't those pictures?"

"TARDIS, Duke," the Doctor pointed out. "Although it looks like there's nothing unusual written in them. No signs of trouble, no mentions of a disappearing sun, nothing. However, I have deduced we are in the time of the pharaoh Khafra."

"Ah, yes! Khafra!" exclaimed Truman. "He commissioned the second pyramid to be built, and is the mastermind behind the Great Sphinx!"

"You have a vast knowledge, young man." The trio turned to find a regal individual standing in the doorway, surrounded on both sides by large guards. "My guards tell me that you have been granted access and are high priests. Are you here to charge me of heresy?"

"OH GREAT PHARAOH OF THE GOLDEN LAND OF EGYPT!" Truman bellowed before being stopped by the Doctor.

"No, don't do that, its embarrassing," he said quietly, as Truman sheepishly retreated. "Pharaoh, we are not here to charge you with any violations. More of a checkup really. Seeing if Ra's been kind, crops growing, all that jazz."

"Our harvest is plentiful and our fruits aplenty. We haven't had this bountiful a season in centuries," the pharaoh explained, giving his guests an odd look. "I do not like being questioned about the affairs of my people. If that is all you require I suggest you leave."

"But we…" Windsor began.

"Certainly, your majesty!" complied the Doctor, dragging his two companions by the scruff of their necks out the door.

"But Doctor," said Truman. "We haven't found anything out!"

"Exactly!" cried the Doctor. "Had good ol' pharaoh Khafra told us more than he has already told us, then he would have nothing to hide. However, since he told us the bare minimum of information needed by high priests in their rituals and inspections, he obviously has more information than he is letting on." He looked excitedly at his companions.

"I'm confused," said Truman.

"As you should be!" replied the Doctor. He quickly turned on the balls of his feet and headed towards the Great Sphinx in the distance.

"What makes you think this dog person statue has the answers we need?" Windsor questioned.

"Well he got defensive when Truman mentioned it, didn't he?" pointed out the Doctor. "He asked us if he was being charged with heresy. Therefore something against the gods must be happening near or in the Sphinx."

"Doctor, are there such things as gods?" Truman hazarded.

"Yes and no," the Doctor replied. "Depends on who you are and what your definition is. For instance, the Greek gods, Zeus, Hermes, Athena and that lot: totally real. However, they are actually shapeshifting Zygons. And boy, were they not happy when I found them out. So if you consider Zygons gods, then absolutely their gods." He stopped and turned, causing Truman to run into him. "Truman, there are powers in this universe that may dwarf you and cause you doubt. I implore you not to let your beliefs or lack thereof impair your judgment on what is real and what isn't. You have a sharp mind that is not easily swayed, so I have hope that you'll come out of this alright." He gave Truman a pat on the back, little realizing how much more confusion he had caused his muddled companion.

The Great Sphinx towered before them, and Truman was in his glory.

"I can't believe I actually get to see the nose of the Great Sphinx!" Truman yelled, immediately forgetting all the confusion that had bogged him down before.

"Seems weirder with it, if you ask me. How did that nose disappear?" Windsor asked as he tried to hide his amazement.

"No one knows," the Doctor said. "Just up and fell off, possibly worn away. Your guess is as good as mine." His sonic firmly in his right hand, the Doctor began probing the surface of the monument, leaving Truman and Windsor to ponder over the rhinoplasty the Sphinx had received over the years.

"AHA! An entrance!" The Doctor sprinted towards a shallow indent in the Sphinx and pressed firmly. The door gave way and with a devilish grin entered the precipice. Windsor and Truman reluctantly followed.

It was dark, as Truman had guessed, but not the pitch blackness that one would associate with old Egyptian tombs. Instead there seemed to be an ambient light that had no explanation; it was just there. A quick look around revealed some sort of entrance chamber with nothing but writings on the wall.

"Osiris will raise them. The Stained Cloth will blind them. Ra shall blink," Windsor read aloud. "What the hell does that mean?"

"Well we've already seen Ra blink," Truman reasoned. "Ra was the sun god the Egyptians worshipped, and we saw the sun completely disappear. And this stained cloth they mention may have something to do with why no one is remembering or acknowledging it."

"What about this 'raising'?" Windsor asked with a slight hint of worry to his words.

"Did anyone notice the light got a bit darker?" Truman asked, but no one was paying attention.

"I think I've figured the rasing part out," the Doctor said as he backed away from something approaching him. Windsor whirled around and screamed as a mummy approached the trio with its hands reaching out.


	8. Stained Cloth: Fear Them

_Hey guys, the author Dylan here! I'm writing new stuff as we speak! Be sure to follow if you like what you're reading, and please review my work and let me know what's working and what isn't. Happy travels!  
_

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As the mummy came into view, Truman screamed a blood-curling scream, leaving both of the Doctor's companions incapacitated with fear. Thinking on his feet, the Doctor pulled his companions towards the door and pushed them out, raising his sonic behind him to close the opening before the mummy could follow. Windsor and Truman sat on the ground as the Doctor looked up into the sky to see the sun reappear again.

"The dead should stay dead!" Windsor cried out, his body in a fetal position as he rocked back and forth in the desert sand. Truman sat beside him with his eyes wide with fear, catching his breath as his friend babbled next to him.

"Are you both afraid of a reanimated corpse? Really?" complained the Doctor.  
"Nonsense!" Truman defended. "Didn't you see that tarantula on its shoulder? Absolutely terrifying Doctor! Biggest I've ever seen!"

"THE DEAD SHOULD STAY DEAD!" Windsor yelled.

"Yeah, we got that, Duke," the Doctor said. "The sun disappears, corpses come to life. The sun reappears, the corpses settle again. Why is this happening?" He was already walking back into the city, with Truman scrambling to his feet to follow and Windsor willing himself to move.

"That doesn't really make sense, Doctor," Truman wheezed behind him. "In the mummification process the brains are removed so that the Ka, the vital essence that distinguishes living from dead can leave the body while the Ba, your spiritual essence, stays. It seems like they have sentience but no individual identity."

"So Truman, your proposing these 'mummies' are getting their Kas and Bas mixed up?" the Doctor asked.

"Wha?" questioned Windsor, who had caught up with them.

"The Ka is staying and the Ba is leaving," Truman impatiently replied.

"What's the Ka and the Ba?"

"Ka's life, Ba's identity."

"Ka's staying."

"Yes."

"Ba's leaving."

"Correct."

"Ka's here, Ba's gone."

"Yah."

"Ah."

"Got it?"

"Not in the slightest," Windsor admitted. Truman decided to leave him in the dark. It really wasn't worth the effort.

"What I am wondering," the Doctor began, "is why it's happening here and now. Obviously something is triggering this. Truman, can you think of anything that may be happening? Any Egyptian myths floating around in your head?" Truman thought for a moment, and then responded.

"Well, there is this theory involving the placement of the pyramids of Giza and the Sphinx."

"What does the theory say?"

"Well according to some researchers, the alignment of the three pyramids of Giza correlates to the three stars in Orion's belt. These stars have often been associated with the god Osiris, the god of rebirth and the afterlife. There's also a connected theory involving the Sphinx, pyramids and the Nile lining up with the Leo constellation, the Orion belt and the Milky Way Galaxy." Windsor looked at him in disbelief.

"Useless knowledge," he scoffed.

"No knowledge is ever useless," preached the Doctor. "Although it is a bit odd you know all that off the top of your head."

"I studied Egyptology in school. I wanted to do something in that field, but… things got in the way," Truman admitted as he looked longingly at the ground.

"Nevertheless, we have a theory!" the Doctor shouted. "What I propose is that we investigate the other pyramids, see if we have any other mummy sightings, and perhaps confront the pharaoh if we feel up to it." Windsor visibly shuddered at the mention, earning him a chastising look from the Doctor. "If it helps, Duke of Windsor, you have more brains than they do."

"That's not saying much," Truman muttered. Windsor punched him hard on the arm, causing it to bruise immediately.

"And what good are you against them? What are you going to do, bore them to death with Egyptology?" Windsor chided.

"Oi, enough bickering you two!" the Doctor said. "I can drop you off at home if you don't stop." They both mumbled apologies, causing the Doctor to beam again. "Now then, shall we to the 7th Wonder of the Ancient World?"

The trio began to walk towards the pyramids, the Doctor talking with Truman.

"I've dealt with spiders in the past," he confided. "Well, they were more spider-alien hybrid recently. The Racnoss they were called. My old mate Donna and I took them out. It was our first adventure together." His eyes grew sad at the mention of his former companion. "Boy was she a firecracker. Never wanted to get on her bad side. She was the most important woman in the entire universe."

"I have a cousin named Donna!" Windsor interrupted, wanting to be included in on the conversation. "She's a real mean one too. Poor girl though. Her first wedding she up and disappeared, and then when she came back Santas attacked her reception! Plus there was this loon of a man who came all of a sudden and then left with her!" The Doctor turned suddenly to Windsor.

"Was her name Donna Noble?"

"Yeah, that's the one!" Windsor said. "Wait, that man at the reception, was that you? But it can't be! You don't look anything alike!"

"That's a long story," the Doctor said, and Truman hoped he would elaborate, but did not receive his wish. He found it odd that although the two flatmates had revealed so much about themselves the Doctor said very little in regards to himself. Sure, he hinted at past adventures and sights he's seen, but it was all so impersonal, as if they happened to another person entirely. He has had partners, companions he called them, in the past, but he doesn't ever say what happened to them.

"Well at least we know one of your companions turned out alright," Windsor said, patting the Doctor on his back. Truman noticed the look on the Doctor's face and wondered whether she did turn out ok after all. He decided to change the subject.

"Since when have you been afraid of reanimated corpses, Windsor? You used to watch the classic horror movies with me all the time."

"I've been having… dreams ever since I killed my first patient," Windsor said, his gaze fixed in front of him in a trance. "I dream the ones I failed to save come to life and take their vengeance out on me. I barely sleep anymore, they've gotten so bad. Since starting with the Doctor though there's another man in my dreams leading them that I don't know. It's all very strange." He began tapping on his leg, and Truman gave him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder.

The Doctor put a hand up to stop the two. They halted and looked around for a sign of what the Doctor was ordering them to stop for. All they saw was the pyramids in front of them a distance away.

"What's wrong, Doctor?" Truman asked.

"The pyramids," the Doctor stated plainly, as if the answer was as clear as day.

"Yes, they're right in front of us," Windsor said slowly, as if the Doctor was mentally impaired.

"Exactly. Notice anything funny about where they are?" He looked at the two companions, who shook their heads. Sighing, he turned the two around.

The Sphinx lingered a few feet behind them.

"But that's impossible. We've been walking for a half hour at least," reasoned Windsor.

"I think we've been infected with something," the Doctor said, grabbing at an invisible force in front of his eyes. He motioned for the duo to do the same. Truman reached for his eyes, and felt a strange fabric in front of them. He tore it off…

And saw they were still in the Sphinx, surrounded by mummies on all sides.


	9. Stained Cloth: Army of the Dead

_Hello, faithful readers! Sorry for the delay on this chapter, Spring Break threw me off a bit schedule-wise. I hope to finish up the Nth Doctor's second adventure by the end of the weekend, so stay tuned! As always, make sure to review the story and tell me what I'm doing right/wrong, favorite the story if you like it, and subscribe if you'd like to receive more. Allons-Y!_

* * *

"Ah, so you have discovered the deception," a voice sounded from behind the trio. Truman hazarded a glance backwards and saw the pharaoh Khafra standing on a raised precipice, his face contorted with a sneering grin. "Finally someone has found out that I've been, what is that phrase, pulling the wool over your eyes?"

"Not from around here, eh?" the Doctor asked, his eyes racing from mummy to mummy trying to hold them off.

"Oh, they are distracting aren't they?" the pharaoh noted, and with a wave of his hand the mummies receded into the cavernous tomb. "To answer your question, no I am not. I was a stranger to these lands, just as you are now. However, I soon learned these people and their culture, a culture that could be easily exploited."

"You used their mythology as a weapon against them," Windsor spat, having recovered from the attack.

"Precisely," the pharaoh replied coolly. "Their reverence of these 'gods' made it easy to pose as one of the chosen. Being stranded here became a blessing in a few short months."

He descended from the platform, his ornate gown trailing behind him. The Doctor cautioned his companions to stay behind him in case of trouble.

"You see, Doctor, I am a prisoner here. I was a general once, a general so powerful that they deemed me corrupt and accused me of conspiring against the government. They were right, of course, but it didn't matter once I was chained to this primitive place. However, I soon found the advantages of being here. As you may know, this desert is the resting place of the greatest army ever to live, as well as the prime place to harness the power of the Orion belt. If one were to harness that army, well, he could conquer anything he thought worthy, including that traitorous planet of mine."

"But it didn't work like you planned it, am I right," the Doctor smirked, his head bobbing in a rather know-it-all fashion.

"Regrettably no," the pharaoh admitted dryly. "The idiot slaves misread my blueprints and put the pyramids off kilter just enough to throw the resurrection process off, resulting in mindless corpses instead of battle ready warriors."

"How did you get them to go along with this?" Truman asked.

"Elegance in its simplicity," the pharaoh bragged. "There is an ancient power that lies dormant in the underground caverns of the Sphinx, which is why I built it in the first place. Around that ancient power was a cloth, a cloth that allowed me to blind the people of Egypt to my true motive with the help of a totem that represented Giza. You've experienced the cloth yourself."

"So you used a little voodoo magic then?" the Doctor grinned. "Sounds like you're a witch doctor."

"That title is beneath me!" the pharaoh roared, his voice echoing loudly across the chamber overwhelmingly. "I am a master of all!"

"I've met a Master before," the Doctor said. "And you don't even hold a candle to him."

"What I am wondering," Windsor asked, ignoring the two's exchange, "Is how you plan on leaving this planet? Space travel won't be possible for centuries."

"You are a dimwitted one, aren't you?" Khafra sneered. "Remember that ancient power lying dormant in the recesses of this monument? It is my ticket out of here. However, as I built the Sphinx, I had the artifact moved higher into the monument to allow it to do THIS." He raised his hands high into the dank cavern air, shouted words in a lost language, and the entire structure began to rumble.

"Doctor, what's happening?" Truman yelled over the commotion. The trio was barely able to keep their footing as the floor quaked beneath them. With the constitution of a Weeble-Wobble, the Doctor guided his companions towards the exit, looking in vain for a way he could follow the fleeing pharaoh. Seeing no alternative but to escape, he shoved them outside.

The ground righted itself as they hit the hot desert sand, but still quaked from tremors. Windsor looked up to see the Great Sphinx of Giza standing upright as if it was alive. The sky grew black around it as the sun was blotted out.

"Um, why is the man cat statue alive?" he asked, grabbing his two partners' attention.

"He must have used the power source he found here as a way of animating the Sphinx," the Doctor exclaimed, his voice dripping with admiration. "Oh, he's good."

"Doctor!" Truman yelled. "The Sphinx is headed towards the city! The people will be crushed in its wake!"

"Quite right, Truman, we should deal with that first," the Doctor agreed as he promptly turned away from the town and the Sphinx and started towards the pyramids.

"Wrong way, Doctor!" Truman shouted over the roar of the Sphinx, which had finally passed over them and was on its way to the unsuspecting people.

"I don't think so!" beamed the Doctor, offering no explanation. Truman threw his hat to the ground in frustration, looked fearfully at the town, and reluctantly flailed his arms as he chased after the Doctor.

As they reached the pyramids, the Doctor soniced open the doorway and charged inside. Truman entered next.

"I think I'll wait outside, thank you very much," Windsor yelled in after them. "Too many mummies for one day, I think."

"Ok have fun!" the Doctor replied. "Just don't wander off!"

"Doctor, why is Khafra attacking the city of Giza? What has he to gain?" Truman questioned as he followed the Doctor through the catacombs of the Great Pyramid of Giza.

"Well Plan A failed," the Doctor stated simply. "He's figuring if he can't have an army of the dead, nobody can. Think about it Truman. His first plan, his primary plan was a disaster. What makes you think the second plan is genius?"

He stopped, and Truman saw that they were standing in front of a large mechanism. Various lenses jutted out from the structure like tumors, giving the chamber an anachronistic feel.

"Ah, he's set up an optical biconvex concentrator to try and compensate for the error in the construction. He's good!" praised the Doctor as he circled the machinery in wonder.

"How does it work, Doctor?" Truman asked, earning him an approving smile from the Doctor.

"The light from the Orion belt filters in through that hole," the Doctor lectured, pointing at the hole in the ceiling. "It reflects off these lenses onto this." He picked up a large glass globe which had rested in a concave cradle in the center of the room. "Surprisingly light! Anyways, this must be a conductor of some sort, channeling power into that power source he said was in the Sphinx."

He twirled the globe on his finger as if it were a basketball until a tremor caused the Doctor to lose his balance and drop the globe, which then proceeded to shatter into a million pieces.

"Is that a bad thing that that globe just broke?"

"Depends on your definition of 'bad'," the Doctor replied, looking worriedly at the shards around them. "It has set the equilibrium of the structure terribly off balance, but it has also ceased to project the power into the Great Sphinx, so that disaster has been averted. However, it seems to have had a large surplus of power within it since it is the main conductor, and may cause a minor explosion of the other power sources."

"So you're telling me that the pyramids and the Great Sphinx of Giza are going to blow up because of us?" yelled Truman incredulously. "THAT WASN'T IN THE HISTORY BOOKS!"

"Time can be rewritten Truman," the Doctor said nervously. "Let's hope for our sakes this isn't one of those times."


	10. Stained Cloth: Asphinxiated

The lenses crashed around them as the pyramid shook, prompting the Doctor and Truman to retreat. The structure crumbled around them; dust from the fallen stones choked the air as the duo dodged the descending rubble.

"Doctor how are we going to get out of here?" yelled a hysterical Truman.

"The same way we came in!" replied the Doctor. He thrust his sonic out in front of him, using its readings as the North Star guiding their way home. As chaos ensued all around him, Truman sadly glanced at the place of his dreams being destroyed by his hand. He had come to Egypt hoping to explore the famed pyramids, not obliterate them. All the hard work and dedication placed into the building, all the people who died for its construction died in vain all because he wanted to do some time traveling. He was forced back into reality by a close encounter with a falling brick. Leaping over a great fissure that had been created by the disruption, they managed to escape the pyramid in time to see it collapse in on itself.

"What have you two been up to?" Windsor asked crossly. "Destroying historical landmarks?"

"GET DOWN!" the Doctor roared, tackling the unsuspecting Windsor into a sand dune. Truman and the Doctor covered their heads as they waited for the imminent explosion.

Nothing happened.

"Where's the explosion?" wheezed Truman, looking at the Doctor for an answer.

"Must've been a microscopic one," reasoned the Doctor. Truman breathed a sigh of relief and looked over to Windsor.

"Did we stop the Sphinx? Has it blown up?"

"Blown up? Of course not!" Windsor pointed towards the now stationary Sphinx. "It's stopped moving though. Right at the nick of time if you ask me, no thanks to you two. What gave you the bright idea to go gallivanting into the Great Pyramids while the city was in danger?"

"A hunch," the Doctor grinned.

"Doctor, how are the people going to rebuild the pyramids?" Truman questioned, sadly bowing his head at his hand in their destruction.

"The Egyptian people are a resilient and spirited bunch," replied the Doctor, gazing at the ruins of the pyramid while giving Truman a reassuring pat on the back. "I'll say they'll have a new one put up in a matter of years. Amazing what a race of people can accomplish when they work together. I mean, just look at the Great Sphi…" He stopped talking as he noticed the face of the Sphinx. Everything was normal, except for the lack of a nose.

"Did we just blow up the Sphinx's nose?" stammered Truman. The Doctor nodded silently.

"He must have placed the power source in the nose of the Sphinx," reasoned the Doctor. "By the looks of it, he was there as well. Poor old Khafra, dead before his time."

"He had his time," Windsor noted darkly. "He was a power hungry general who lusted for destruction. He got what was coming to him."

"Doesn't make his death any less impactful," the Doctor said. "At least now the people of Egypt can move on from the tyranny, but I'm afraid there will be more slavery and suffering for them in the future for quite a while. However!" he cheered up, raising his hand to the sky. "We have saved them today!"

Truman gave a little cheer and Windsor scoffed.

"Never scoff at saving lives!" chastised the Doctor. "Think about how these people will go on to create more people and expand civilization exponentially! You're helping that cause by saving people's lives. Even if you save them for a moment, for just one second, that's one second they can do extraordinary things in. Doesn't that give you a good feeling? Don't you feel accomplished?"

"Why do you think I became a doctor if not to stoke my hero complex?" Windsor noted dryly. "And by the way, there won't be any more mummies alive, right?" he asked in a nonchalant but fearful manner.

"Oh no," the Doctor waved his hand dismissively. "They're back resting peacefully in their sarcophaguses. Sarcophagi? Sarcophagussis? Well, in their death vessels. The residual energy within the spheres should have dissipated into the air, helping to form new live throughout the universe. Isn't it poetic?"

"As long as the dead stay dead," Windsor stated. "That's all that matters in the world."

"Never had a significant other, eh Duke?" the Doctor ribbed, causing Windsor to hit Truman.

"Hey, he's the one who said it, not me!" he defended, trying in vain to hit the dodging Windsor back.

"Well I can't very well hit our ride, can I?" he chuckled as he continued to evade the angry Truman's blows.

"Haven't you had enough violence for the day?" the Doctor asked. He gazed at the Sphinx, and beckoned the duo to join him. "The statue gives you a whole new meaning of 'the nose goes' doesn't it?" They all chuckled at the joke.

"I can't believe we inspired Lord Voldemort's image!" Windsor said, prompting more laughter.

"Gee Doctor," Truman noted as they looked upon the Great Sphinx. "Without his nose, won't he asphinxiate?"

The Doctor and Windsor turned to Truman and said nothing. There was no coming back from that joke.

* * *

_And thus ends the second adventure of the Nth Doctor and his companions. It's Windsor's pick of locale for the next destination. Where will he choose to go? Find out in the next installment of the Nth Doctor, **Time of the Dragons!**_


	11. Time of the Dragons: Prequel

They had been sitting in the TARDIS for what felt like hours before Truman decided to start yelling.

"Would you just pick a bloody place already!" he shouted at Windsor, who had been pondering their next location ever since they left Egypt.

"You didn't think about this while we were in Egypt?" the Doctor asked, his head resting in his hands as he lazily leaned against the console.

"I was a little busy living my worst nightmare," Windsor pointed out, a point he had been stressing the whole time. "There's so many places to choose from."

"How about a random place? So then you don't have the stress of picking," replied Truman shortly, flailing his arms in frustration.

"Then it wouldn't really be my pick would it?" Truman yelled an unintelligible yammer of words as he sunk to the floor in anger.

"I've got it! We've been to historical places in the past before. Take us to someplace in the future! An alien planet!" Both the Doctor and Truman jumped up from their anguished positions and breathed sighs of relief.

"Alright then! Off to uncharted waters!" the Doctor yelled as he flipped the switches on the console. The familiar groan resonated throughout the chamber as they blasted toward the future.

"Ok, here we are on planet Olos in the Grandulous Galaxy! Haven't been here before, and that's saying something," the Doctor said gleefully. "Hm, the reading says 'Hc svnt Dracones' or 'here be Dragons' for you non-Latin aficionados. Seems like no one's been here then, since they used to put that on maps to represent uncharted territories, terra incognita if you will. So continue onwards, Francis Drake! You're going to discover a new planet!" He gestured to the door, allowing Windsor the honors of being the first to step foot on the foreign planet.

"Um, Doctor?" Windsor called back into the TARDIS. "I think the TARDIS messed up."

Truman and the Doctor bolted outside, wondering what could have gone wrong. They exited into a lush forested area with bamboo plants and a quaint looking Japanese cottage.

"Doctor, that's a quaint looking Japanese cottage, not an alien pod," Windsor said crossly. "I thought you promised me a future alien planet, not a Feudal Japanese forest."

"Duke of Windsor, this is an alien planet," the Doctor stated. "We're on the planet Olos."

"We're obviously not," Windsor asserted as he gestured around him. "I'm not stupid, you're trying to pull a fast one on me by giving me a cheaper trip!"

"I swear he's not always like this," Truman mumbled as he rubbed his nose in a tired manner. "It does look like Feudal Japan though, Doctor."

"I'm telling you, it isn't!" the Doctor said, obviously hurt by the accusation of ripping his companions off.

As if in response to his words, the trees in front of them were pushed roughly aside by a gigantic creature that suddenly appeared hovering in the clearing. It bared its teeth at the trio as it raised its head in a show of authority. Windsor turned and immediately went white.

"Is that a…"

"Dragon," Truman whispered.

"See? Definitely not Feudal Japan," the Doctor said as the dragon bore down upon them.


	12. Time of Dragons: The Bloodless Warrior

The dragon let out a great roar, causing the Doctor and Windsor to evacuate the immediate area. Truman remained, frozen from fear and fascination. The fleeing duo noticed Truman's lack of mobility too late to do anything.

Suddenly a blur of motion appeared between Truman and the dragon, causing the dragon to peel back in pain. The blur grabbed Truman's wrist and pulled him away as the dragon fell towards the ground.

"He is only stunned," the blur said, its voice muffled from a scarf covering its mouth. "We must keep moving." Having no time to look the blur over, Truman complied and followed the blur deeper into the woods, the Doctor and Windsor in tow.

They found themselves at the mouth of a cave, into which the blur had entered. They heard the roar of the dragon behind them, and hastily entered. Inside was a makeshift campsite, complete with provisions, a fire, and a sleeping area. The blur sat by the fire, having placed the scarf it had been wearing aside to reveal the black haired woman underneath. Her eyes gazed sternly at the fire, as if she was scolding herself.

"I can't thank you enough for saving me," Truman said gratefully, approaching his savior with an extended hand. The woman eyed his hand cautiously.

"Why are you extending your hand at me?" she asked, her voice hinting at suspecting an ulterior motive.

"Oh that's a sign of thanks and respect where he's from," the Doctor said cheerily from deeper into the cave as he inspected the walls with an unusual amount of excitement. The woman nodded, and crossed her hand diagonally across her face.

"Where I am from, this is a sign of respect," she lectured, prompting Truman to respectfully mirror the movement. A small grin appeared on her face, and she gave him a slight bow.

"I am Kazuhira of the Senzi people and I welcome you to my home," she said, gesturing around her encompassingly.

"We're in Japan, right?" Windsor said, acknowledging his surroundings skeptically as he tapped his hand on his crossed arms.

"I do not know where this Japan is, but it is not here, Shitsureina," she said coldly, her eyes bearing into Windsor's with malice.

"She just called you disrespectful, mate," the Doctor said, smiling at Windsor. "Seems this planet does have some similar roots with Japanese etymology and culture." He approached Kazuhira, motioned the respect gesture and bowed slightly. "I'm the Doctor and these are Truman and Windsor, and we're here to help."

"You are used to women being in love with you aren't you?" Kazuhira asked bluntly, leaving the Doctor speechless. "You seem to have that air about you. Never a good thing for one to have."

"Madam Kazuhira," Truman said, bringing her attention towards him as the Doctor paced back and forth wondering aloud how he had given off that vibe. "Could you tell us where exactly we are and what that creature was we faced?"

"You are in the Senzi nation," she explained, sitting cross legged on the ground. Truman sat across from her, eager to hear her explanations. "And those beasts you have come across are Serpentines, the scourge of our people. They are greedy monsters, stealing from our villages and destroying out people. Our warriors are fighting a losing battle against the Serpentines because they are blind to their patterns." Truman nodded, and noticed the Doctor had recovered from his revelation enough to join their fireside chat. Windsor leaned against the cave wall scoffing at his misfortune of landing somewhere he didn't want to be.

"What patterns are those?" the Doctor asked.

"They are creatures of habit," Kazuhira stated. "They have routines and habits they continue to live out, as if they were once Senzi. We also have our strict rituals and schedules, something I was never able to abide by."

"You don't like following people's orders?" Truman guessed.

"I was never able to arrive to any event on time," Kazuhira spat, the venom in her voice showing how serious a problem it was. Windsor chuckled, but after a death glare from Kazuhira bowed his head gravely. "This is the greatest dishonor to my people. That is part of the reason why I live in this cave rather than with the Senzi."

"What's the other reason?" the Doctor whispered.

"I would not kill the Serpentines," said Kazuhira. "Although they kill our people daily, I cannot bring myself to slay them. My blade has never tasted blood, and I plan to keep it that way."

"Yes, I noticed you kept your sword sheathed when fending off the Serpentine," said the Doctor, a tone of admiration seeping into his voice. "I like people with those priorities." Kazuhira nodded, and continued.

"So I was expelled, forced to seek refuge in the wild lands a short way beyond the borders of the land. However, I still feel an obligation to my people, no matter how strict their laws may be. I protect the borders from new Serpentines that try to enter." Truman smiled comfortingly at her.

"So what do these dragons want with your people?" Windsor asked from the cave wall.

"That I cannot answer," Kazuhira admitted. "I have been trying to discover their hives or bases, but they have been able to elude me. Perhaps you three may be able to help me. I am not allowed to contact my people for assistance, but you might be able to give me the numbers I need to hunt them down." The Doctor looked at Kazuhira and nodded.

"We will help you on one condition: the Serpentines are not to be harmed or killed," the Doctor asserted. "They have just as much of a right to live here as you. We will try to reason with them and come to a peaceful decision." Kazuhira bowed her head in agreement.

"From what Kazuhira says, these are bloodthirsty beasts," Windsor mentioned. "If we can't reason with them something has to be done."

"We can't think like that," Truman interrupted, glancing at the Doctor to make sure Windsor's words weren't having an effect. "We must stress peace. They're a race of creatures, Windsor, not monsters."

"I agree," Kazuhira stated, picking up her sword from its resting place. "We must not antagonize them any more than we already have."

"Never tickle a sleeping dragon," the Doctor stated, a smile crossing his lips. "Well, shall we go discover their hiding place?" He charged out of the cave, leaving behind a confused Kazuhira.

"Is your Doctor always this foolhardy?" Kazuhira asked Truman, who nodded his head.

"It's part of his charm," he said as they followed him out of the cave. "He is the bravest man I've ever met, undoubtedly."

"How long have you been travelling together?"

"Not very long actually," Truman admitted. "In fact, I don't really know too much about the Doctor. He's very mysterious and wise, but there's something deep inside him that frightens me and awes me at the same time. I'm not sure what it is, but I just get this feeling." Kazuhira nodded, and then gestured to Windsor.

"And how long have you been betrothed? Your mate could learn some manners from you, Truman." Truman froze.

"Oh you think we're a couple," Truman stammered, shaking his head vigorously at Kazuhira. "No, just roommates. Honest!"

He continued stammering that they weren't a couple and were just friends. Kazuhira laughed in amusement, but did not give any indication that she believed him

"Don't worry, Kaz," Windsor interjected with a swaggering bravado, oblivious to the conversation Kazuhira and Truman had just finished as he swung his cricket bat like a swashbuckling swordsman. "If anything happens, I will protect you."

"Were did you get that cricket bat from?" Truman asked Windsor.

"Always keep it with me."

"Where, in your back pocket? The thing's huge!"

"While I thank you for your concern," Kazuhira interrupted. "I will ask you to have more respect when addressing me," Her voice rang with authority, causing Windsor to stutter step. "The women of Senzi were born warriors and leaders, and we do not suffer fools gladly."

"I respect you," Truman said in a small voice, earning an approving glance from Kazuhira.

"And I respect you. That is why we are equals," Kazuhira stated. Truman thanked Kazuhira and walked up to the Doctor.

"What did she mean by women falling in love with you?" he questioned.

"That's a long story. Long stories, actually," the Doctor admitted, the look on his face revealing his discomfort on the subject. He rubbed his head uncomfortably. "I went through a phase with one of my past lives where I acted… rashly towards women. I've been making a conscious effort to forget about that."

"Doctor, are you telling me you were disrespectful towards women?" Truman asked, astonished. "You know that without women we wouldn't actually be here right? Are you able to give birth to another being?"

"Funny story, that," he said. "I have done that before. Severed hand, regeneration energy, it's another long story."

"You'll have to tell me these long stories one day," Truman casually stated, trying to hide his urge to find out more about the mysterious Doctor.

They soon found themselves stopped in front of the place where they had first arrived. The Doctor glanced over the area and began worriedly pacing around the forest.

"Is your Doctor having trouble with something?" asked Kazuhira. Truman walked up to the Doctor.

"Doctor, what's wrong?" Truman asked, and the Doctor looked at him gravely.

"Truman, the TARDIS is gone."


	13. Time of Dragons: A Town Called Time

The Doctor frantically ran around searching for the TARDIS, turning over small stones, kicking through leaf piles and climbing up trees in vain attempt to find it.

"You don't think the dragons took it, do you?" Windsor asked.

"That's absolutely ridiculous," the Doctor spat at Windsor as he turned to Kazuhira. "Could they have taken it?"

Kazuhira thought for a moment. "I have witnessed them steal people, animals, even merchant stands. It is entirely possible the Serpentines have taken your blue box."

"Well why don't we just turn on the LoJack and track it down?" Truman suggested.

"Don't be silly, I don't have LoJack on the TARDIS," the Doctor scoffed. "I never lose it."

"Well you've lost it now," Windsor kindly pointed out.

"It's not lost, just misplaced," the Doctor pointedly asserted as he took out his sonic screwdriver and waved it around the area. "Looks like traces of huon particles are still resonating in the area. I may be able to follow the trail to its location. Oh, you clever girl, you!" The Doctor jovially fiddled with his sonic until the settings were optimized, and began to follow the invisible trail.

"Is he implying that his blue box is a living being?" Kazuhira asked Truman.

"You know, I've learned to tune out the madness at this point," he said tiredly. They hurried after him as he darted between trees. "Doctor, do you think the TARDIS will still be functional after having been in the mouth of a Serpentine?"

"Of course it will!" the Doctor replied, offended by Truman's question. "It's force fields have withstood volcanoes, explosions, and even bad paint jobs, I'm sure it can handle a little dragon slobber."

"A force field is a protective covering over things," Windsor explained to Kazuhira.

"I know what a force field is," she said flatly. "My people have been using them for generations." Truman snickered at Windsor's deflation. Suddenly Kazuhira stopped walking, prompting Truman to immediately worry.

"What time is it?" she asked gravely. Truman pulled out his pocket watch, an old sliver fob watch with a single nail imprinted on its lid, and read off the hour.

"Damn," she cursed, kicking the nearest rock which bee-lined towards Windsor's ankle. As he howled in pain, Kazuhira looked at Truman. "We are too late to find the Serpentines now. They disappear around this hour every night without a trace. We will not be able to track them."

The Doctor nodded sadly and pocketed his sonic. "I suppose you're right. You'll have to take us to the village so we can spend the night, possibly finding clues as well if we aren't too busy." He rubbed his hands, his worry for his constant companion seemingly gone. Kazuhira shook her head.

"I am not allowed within the village walls. The most I can do is show you where it is, but no more than that."

"We would be eternally grateful for your guidance," Truman said as he slashed his hand across his face. She nodded reluctantly and began to walk towards the village.

They found themselves on a large cliff overlooking the town, which was surrounded on all sides by a circular wall. Within the confines of the main wall were lines of walls branching from the very middle of the town like spokes in a wheel.

"It looks like a giant clock," Windsor noted in disbelief. Kazuhira nodded.

"The city of Jikan, my birthplace and my former prison."

"You were in prison?" Truman asked, half shocked and half aroused.

"Think she meant that figuratively, Truman," the Doctor pointed out to a now glum Truman. "The City of Time then, no wonder you were banished for being late. Thank you for leading us here. We will meet you back where the TARDIS was tomorrow." Kazuhira gave a slight bow and disappeared into the forest.

"Don't be late, eh Kazuhira?" Windsor chuckled when he thought she was out of earshot. A rock appeared from the dense treeline and collided with Windsor's head. He was still feeling its effects as they approached the main gate.

"That was a lovely watch you have, Truman," the Doctor commented. "Family heirloom?"

"Yeah it was my grandfather's," he said. "He was a carpenter, which is why he had a nail put on the front of the watch. That and because of some philosophy he had. Always used to tell me how one nail could mean the world, and preached not to underestimate anything and all that nonsense. There was a proverb he held dear… 'For want of a nail…'"

"At this point isn't there someone supposed to stop us from walking in?" Windsor interrupted as they walked in without anyone stopping them.

"They already knew we were coming," the Doctor said as they eyed the empty streets of the town. "Be on guard. Expect the unexpected."

A noise sounded behind them, and the three turned around quickly. The Doctor brandished his sonic in front of him in a riposte stance. Windsor took his cricket bat out from nowhere, holding it with intention to strike. Truman put his fists out in front of him, knowing full well what little effect they would have on whatever was assailing them…

And then reconsidered that thought when he saw it was a little girl.

"Come with me," she said in a bubbly manner, immediately disarming Truman and Windsor. The Doctor continued his alert stance.

"And what if we don't want to?" the Doctor asked, a tone of suspicion entering his voice.

"Then the archers stationed around this area will have to fire," the girl replied in the same warm tone. The Doctor nodded and beckoned her forward to their destination. Truman and Windsor looked wildly around for signs of any arrows flying towards them.

The girl led them to the center of the town, which was itself enveloped in walls. Guards stepped aside as they entered the palace, decorated from head to toe in hues of red and orange. They stopped in front of a large throne, on which a young woman sat.

"Thank you, kodomo," the woman said to the child, who crossed her hand over her face and left. "So you are the intruders to our land."

"Now wait a minute, we aren't…" Windsor defended before being cut off by the Doctor, who up until that point had been trying to keep his sonic from going off to no avail.

"Yes, we are the intruders. Why have you brought us here?" he asked, putting his sonic in his jacket pocket where it silently continued to buzz.

"We have discovered your ship," she answered, gesturing to a doorway where four guards carried the TARDIS into view, prompting the Doctor to breathe a sigh of relief.

"Well there you are! You scared me half to death," the Doctor ran to the TARDIS, inspecting it as a mother inspects a small child. "They haven't slobbered on you, have they?" The guards looked at the woman on the throne, confused as to what they should do.

"Yes, your ship," the woman continued, prompting the Doctor to divide his attention between her and the TARDIS. "We have need of your assistance."

"What would you like us to do?" Truman asked, approaching the throne before being pushed back by one of the guards at the foot of the woman.

"How did you know who we are?" questioned Windsor.

"We have spies everywhere," she said as she gestured encompassingly. "We have monitored your journey since your encounter with… Kazuhira."

"Ah, so you know our warrior woman?" the Doctor interjected as he walked back to the throne. "And you seem to know about us, but yet we know nothing about you. Tell us about yourself, please so I can properly meet you acquaintance."

"I am Ken'i, the leader of the people of Senzi. I ask for your assistance in eradicating the Serpentine threat. We have tried for many weeks to rid ourselves of them, but they continue to be the bane of my people."

"You're spies must have misinformed you," the Doctor said flatly. "We don't kill. There is a peaceful solution to be found and we will be happy to find it. We shall need your cooperation in coming to an understanding with these creatures."

"There is no understanding to be found here, Doctor," Ken'i shouted, her fist clenched tightly on the arm of the throne. "They have attacked us with malice and hatred, and we must respond in kind."

"They have every right to live as you do," the Doctor responded, his teeth clenched in a fury Truman had never seen before. "You haven't exactly been laying out the welcome mat for them, have you? You attack on sight and don't stop to ask why. There can be coexistence between you and the Serpentines if you only offer the olive branch."

Ken'i scoffed at the Doctor's words. "So they can burn it with their fiery breath? Your words are nothing to us who have experienced their wrath. They take our children and our homes without care, and they grow by the day and threaten to envelope us. I thought I could use you to secure the safety of our land, but I was sorely mistaken." She gestured to the guards to seize them, which they did unquestioningly.

"You can't do this, Ken'i!" the Doctor yelled as the guards took them away from the throne. "You must listen to reason! War is not the answer to this problem, believe me. It'll only make it worse!"

"Take them to the dungeon," Ken'i spat as she watched them being dragged away. "Perhaps confinement will help them better than it helped my sister before she was exiled."


	14. Time of Dragons: The Tardy Woman

"Well this is another fine mess you've gotten us into, Doctor," Windsor yelled from the back of the dirt ridden cell. "And all because you wanted to take us on a discounted trip."

"For the last time, this isn't Feudal Japan!" the Doctor stressed as he walked to the cell door and tried to open it. "Great, they've locked us in."

"Did you expect them to leave it open for us to escape?" Truman asked.

"I've been fooled before," the Doctor muttered as he pulled out his sonic screwdriver. "And its deadlock sealed. How is everything deadlock sealed?" He gave up, leaning against the wall in exasperation.

"What do you think they'll do to us?" Windsor whispered, looking somewhat frightened.

"Kazuhira is SISTERS with that woman?" Truman exclaimed, looking shocked as it sank in.

"That's really what you're worried about? Some bloody family tree?" Windsor shook his head. "You need to sort out your priorities."

"I agree with Truman, it is a strange case indeed. Oh don't give me that look, his question was much more interesting than yours," the Doctor commented after Windsor gave him an incredulous look. "Fine, fine, we'll try and come up with a plan to get out of here. Any thoughts?"

"We could try and contact Kazuhira," Truman suggested.

"She'd only show up too late to do anything," Windsor scoffed. Truman charged him, only to be tripped by the Doctor.

"Now's not the time to quarrel, my dear Truman," the Doctor said sternly. "Now is the time for affirmative action!" He thrust his sonic screwdriver into the air, and did nothing else.

"Seriously, do we have a plan to get out of here?" Windsor asked. "Because I honestly don't want to die in a Japan knockoff."

"You aren't going to die in a Japan knockoff because you aren't IN a Japan knockoff!" the Doctor persisted.

Suddenly the sound of a blaring siren filled the cell, causing the trio to clasp their hands over their ears and look around wildly. Shouts and screaming resonated through the small window from outside, prompting Truman to run to it to investigate.

"The Serpentines are attacking!" he yelled over the alarms as the building shook from an unknown impact. Truman was knocked to the ground by the force, in time to avoid being crushed by the debris caused by a second impact that opened a hole in the wall of the cell.

Through the hole was chaos. The skies were covered in Serpentines, some chasing frantic civilians while others breathed fire into the air. The trio looked on in horror as the Serpentines systematically picked up the screaming individuals and carried them out of the city.

"We have no time to waste!" the Doctor shouted, running in the direction of the kidnapped individuals. Windsor and Truman followed, narrowly avoiding blasts of fire and charging Serpentines as they made their way across the war torn town. The Doctor noticed one Serpentine flying lower to the ground, and ran up behind it to grab its tail. He ascended into the sky, leaving his companions to struggle finding their own ride.

Truman spotted a Serpentine, and exerted all of his strength to catch up to it. He grabbed for the back, feeling the rough scales of the creature as it lifted him skyward. It was all he could do to keep a grip on it, and stifled his overwhelming need to scream as the Serpentine transported him onward.

He soon found himself forcibly thrown from the back of the dragon, landing with a heavy thud on the rocky terrain below. Shaking the daze from his head, Truman surveyed his surroundings, and found that he was in a huge cavern filled with Serpentines along with their scared captives. A little ways away he spotted the Doctor, who was getting a closer look at one of the Serpentines who looked very annoyed.

"Where the hell is this place?" Windsor said from behind Truman as he dusted himself off.

"We are in the lair of the Serpentines," a cowering elderly man quivered next to them. His eyes darted around the cave, afraid to look at any of the creatures for too long. Truman felt for the old man; the Serpentines did make for some frightening nightmares, but there was one detail that he found somewhat odd. As he looked around the room, the people the Serpentines had captured weren't being eviscerated by their captors. Instead, the creatures circled the villagers in a curious, non-predator way. In fact, their eyes betrayed a sense of longing.

"Ah, so you've noticed it as well," the Doctor said knowingly, scaring Truman with his sudden appearance. "Can you guess why they look so sad?"

"I have no idea, Doctor," he admitted. The Doctor nodded, and walked towards the exit. A Serpentine headed him off, giving him a menacing look.

"I don't wish to fight, honest," he said, raising his hand in a pledge of honor. "I'm just looking for signs of a friend who should be arriving shortly." The Serpentine snarled at him, and he backed away.

"Are you waiting for Kazuhira? My Tardy Woman?" Truman asked hopefully, realizing too late that he had revealed his secret pet name for her.

"You didn't really say that, did you?" the Doctor said bemusedly, giving Truman a huge smirk. "I've come up with some bad nicknames in the past, but I think that one may take the cake."

"There's no reasoning with these beasts, Doctor," Windsor warned, drawing his hidden cricket bat from his pocket. He was immediately surrounded, and he braced himself for a fight. The Doctor ran for the circle, trying to stop Windsor. Truman breathed a sigh of relief, thankful that Windsor had not heard the embarrassing name.

"Windsor, put down your bat immediately!" the Doctor yelled, and Windsor begrudgingly complied. The Serpentines resumed their studies, and the Doctor grabbed Windsor's arm.

"We'll discuss the matter of your thievery of my wardrobe later," he whispered in a terse tone.

"SO THAT'S HOW HE CARRIES THAT CRICKET BAT AROUND!" Truman yelled, excited to learn the truth and also to get the attention off of him. "The pockets are bigger on the inside, aren't they?"

"Speaking of which," the Doctor began as he fished in his pockets to grab a strange looking device. The instrument warbled and whined as flashing lights blinked across it. "I've been wondering why this has been going off. I forgot I put it in my pocket in the first place, but it may hold a clue as to what's going on here."

"What is that thing? Some science project of yours?" Windsor asked.

"Well, in the past I've described it as a wibbly wobbly timey wimey detector, as its real name would have baffled the minds of the people I was talking to. However, since I'm in the presence of such brilliant minds, I will continue to call it that."

"You don't have a name for it, do you?" Truman guessed.

"Not at all," the Doctor replied. "HOWEVER! This device detects temporal anomalies in the area, which is why it's dinging. Meaning that there is some strange disturbance in time around here that's causing these Serpentines to appear." Before he could explain more, a loud thud sounded behind them.

Kazuhira rose from the ground, an angry look on her face as she did so.

"I apologize for my tardiness, but I am here. Shall we begin the negotiations?" Truman rushed to help her up until he realized she was already standing.

"Are you hurt? WE NEED A BANDAID, STAT!" yelled Truman before a hand on his shoulder from Kazuhira silenced him.

"I appreciate your concern for my well-being, my friend, but we must make haste with our peace. Ken'i has gathered the army and is on her way here right now. We must stop the violence before it comes to fruition." They nodded and walked toward the center of the cavern.

"Will the leader of the Serpentines come forward?" the Doctor yelled, causing everyone in the cavern, Serpentine and civilian alike to look at him in bewilderment. After a moment's silence, a great scarlet Serpentine came forward and presented itself before the group.

"Hello there," the Doctor said cheerily as he crossed his arm across his face in respect. "I'm the Doctor, and this is Truman, Windsor and Kazuhira. We're here to prevent war."

The Serpentine nodded, and slashed his tail in front of his face in respect.

"He understands the Doctor," Truman whispered to Kazuhira, who shushed him.

"There is something familiar about this Serpentine," she said quietly. "I do not know why, but I feel connected with it."

"I'm sure that's just the fall talking," Windsor replied. The Doctor looked back at them to quiet them down.

"There is currently an army headed this way with aims to destroy you. We don't want that to happen," he continued. "My friends and I believe there is peace to be found between the Serpentines and the Senzi people. I also noticed on your recent visit to the town you didn't kill anybody, nor are you planning to." The Serpentine nodded, and sighs of relief filled the cavern from the villagers.

"Well that's a plus," the Doctor said. "However, we need to know how you got here. What happened that caused you to appear?" The Serpentine bowed his head, and the Doctor stepped forward. Placing his hands on the Serpentine Lord's head, he began to extract the memories from the creature.

"What is happening?" Kazuhira demanded, her voice dripping with concern. For which party, Truman could not tell.

"I think he's extracting the memories from the creature," Truman reasoned, and Windsor slapped him upside the head.

"That's utterly impossible," he replied. Truman rubbed his head as the Doctor came out of his trance.

"I am so sorry," he forlornly said to the Serpentine, whose eyes were windows of sadness that reflected the Doctor clearly. "The pain you've gone through, the absolute pain…"

"Where did they come from, Doctor? How did they suddenly appear?" Truman queried, and the Doctor regarded him sadly.

"They've always been here," he said. Truman and Windsor looked at him blankly, but Kazuhira's face showed understanding and then sadness. "They are the Senzi people."

Shouts began to echo in the cavern as the sound of marching became clear. The group turned toward the entrance to see Ken'i leading an army into the cave, a gleaming sword pointed forward towards the Serpentine Lord.

"The time of your reckoning has come, Serpentines," she shouted, her words echoed by cheers from her army. The villagers cowered behind the wall of Serpentines that had formed to face the threat.

"Ken'i, stop! You don't know what you're doing," the Doctor shouted above the roar of the Serpentines.

"I have heard enough of your silver tongue, Doctor!" she spat, her sword now facing the Time Lord. "If you stand in our way you will also be destroyed."

"Sister, his words ring true," Kazuhira said calmly as she slowly approached her sister. The blade now pointed at her, a hand of a clock pointing the hour of destruction. "These creatures are not what you think!"

"Lies!" she yelled as she lunged forward with her sword. The blade pierced Kazuhira's chest, a look of love and betrayal on her face. She shuddered and fell; the blade sliding out of her as Ken'i maliciously gripped it. Truman shouted and rushed to her, only to be held back by the Doctor. Although time seemed to stand still for him, he was still too late to save the person he loved.


	15. Time of Dragons: Rage of a Time Lord

"She was your SISTER!" the Doctor raged, as Ken'i regarded him coolly.

"Another casualty of war," she said, wiping the blade with her scarf. The Serpentine Lord roared, flames filling the air above him as he gave a mournful, angry bellow. Ken'i hesitated.

"Recognize that rage, do you?" the Doctor menaced. "Do you understand what your sister meant now? Do you know who you've been fighting?" Ken'i took a step backwards.

"Father?" she stammered in shock as the Serpentine looked down on her sternly.

"That's right," the Doctor confirmed. "These are the Senzi people of the past. Their souls caught in a temporal anomaly, unable to die. They were able to come back, only in the form of dragons. All they wanted to do was be accepted by you, to go back to their old way of life, but your 'attack first and ask questions later' diplomacy prevented that. They were forced to kidnap their loved ones, spirit them away to try and get them to remember." His voice quivered with rage. "They just wanted their lives back, but instead you perceived them as monsters and attacked without hesitation."

The villagers were silent, mesmerized by the revelation that their loved ones were, indeed, alive. Truman, who up until that point had been cradling Kazuhira's body, looked up at the Doctor. From where he was, the Time Lord looked absolutely menacing, the most frightening thing in existence. His rage crackled around him as he burned brighter than a million suns. Truman was absolutely, unequivocally fearful of his life.

Ken'i fell to her knees, tears running down her face as she dropped her blade. Truman regarded her carefully, but could not tell whether it was the severity of her crime or the Doctor's rage which caused her penitent pose. The Doctor walked towards her, his very presence causing the soldiers behind their submissive leader to throw down their weapons. His anger leaped and bounded off the walls, penetrating everything in sight with its sheer intensity.

"And not only have you destroyed your ancestors, you've just murdered your sister." His voice was barely above a whisper, and yet resonated throughout the cavern. "There are evils reserved for loathsome, despicable creatures like you in the furthest depths of oblivion." No one dared to speak, in fear that his very anger would incinerate them as the words left their mouths. He looked down at her, the small, insignificant being she was, and stared.

Then he walked away. The intense anger dissipated as quickly as it had come about, and Ken'i breathed a sigh of relief. That was all too much for Truman.

The anger transferred itself to him, filling every crevice of his being as he carefully laid Kazuhira down and picked up her sheathed katana and took it from its casing.

"Truman, what are you doing?" the Doctor's eyes bore into Truman, both pleading and ordering him not to do this.

"She destroyed the only woman I've ever truly loved! My Tardy Woman is dead because of her!" he shouted, tears pouring down his face as he held the blade to her neck. The great leader whimpered as the Doctor tried to reason with Truman.

"I know it hurts Truman, believe me, I know the pain," the Doctor assured him. "But you cannot sink to her level. You just can't. We need to be strong for her."

"I AM SICK OF TAKING THE HIGH ROAD!" Truman cried, his hands shaking uncontrollably. "I have always been the good guy, the dutiful son, and it has never worked in my favor. I can't keep seeing terrible people win and I can't keep losing. I just can't…" His voice disappeared, and he collapsed in a heap in front of Ken'i. He sobbed silently as the Doctor walked over to comfort him.

Ken'i, furious over having been dominated by two men in front of her people, grabbed at her fallen sword and raised it over her head, poised to strike down Truman Nedry where he lay. She brought the sword down…

Only to have it collide with another sword. There, bloodied and pale, stood Kazuhira, her unsheathed sword blocking the advance of her sister's twin blade. With surprising strength for the amount of blood she had lost, she pushed Ken'i's sword backwards away from Truman.

"I am sorry for being late, Truman," Kazuhira said softly. "But I could not believe your name for me." Two of the soldiers grabbed Ken'i and shackled her, while two more helped Kazuhira to a nearby rock. Truman looked up from his ball of sadness, and ran to Kazuhira in an embrace until she winced in pain.

"I could use that Band-Aid you offered," she said dryly, causing Truman to laugh in relief and look at the Doctor. He was smiling at them, obviously happy that she had survived. However, Truman noticed his eyes weren't corresponding to that emotion. Instead there was a darkness, an oblivion so black that Truman gave a quick prayer that he would never see it manifest itself again. Windsor came over to the two of them, snapping Truman from his trance.

"How in the bloody hell did you survive that wound? I could've sworn it went right through your heart," he marveled as he regarded her injury.

"I have a stronger heart than you give me credit for," she stated as the medics that had arrived with the army attended to her. Windsor walked away, leaving the medics, Truman and Kazuhira. "A heart that is strong enough to lead my people." Truman looked at her, absolutely crestfallen.

"But I thought you would come travel with us," he said, his heart sinking as he realized she could never leave her people.

"I need to lead my people," she asserted, caressing Truman's face comfortingly. "And I forbid you from staying. You are needed with the Doctor, that much had become clear to me. You need to ground him, and ensure that he stays on the path of light. I do not trust your friend Windsor with that task." Truman begrudgingly nodded, but fished in his pocket for something.

"Here, I want you to have this to remember me by." He handed her his grandfather's pocket watch, which gleamed brightly as Kazuhira looked at it. "This way you can actually be on time once." Kazuhira smiled at him, the first time Truman had seen her do that since he had known her.

"And here is something for you to remember me by," she said as her lips joined with his. In that one instance there was nothing else in the world, no TARDIS, no Windsor, no Doctor and no adventures, just Truman and his Tardy Woman.

"Ok, was never too comfortable in these situations," the Doctor interrupted, grabbing Truman from his love drunkenness. "You'll make a great leader, Kazuhira. I just know it."

"We will thrive with our ancestors," she affirmed, crossing her arm in front of her face at the Doctor. "You will always be welcome by the Senzi and the Serpentines."

"Ok, let's go before Truman decides to start snogging the queen again," Windsor said as he ribbed Truman. "Tardy girl, eh?"

"It's WOMAN, first off," Truman replied. "And at least I have a girl, especially one that can beat you to a pulp."

"Alright, you two," the Doctor said cheerfully as he placed his arms around their shoulders. "Let's get back to the TARDIS."

The control room was a godsend to Windsor, who was frankly quite ready to have the comfort of a bed to sleep on instead of a prison cell.

"Where's the next destination, Doctor?" Truman asked, as he fondly reminisced about his kiss.

"Well, we can go anywhere we want, really," he reasoned as he tossed his psychic paper onto the console. Windsor tapped on the console, which caused the Doctor to stare at him intently.

"What did I say about the tapping?" he asked crossly, and Windsor shook his head, as if shaking off a trance.

"Sorry, didn't realize I was doing it again," he said, brushing it off while the Doctor continued to stare.

"Doctor, there's something appearing on your psychic paper!" Truman pointed out, and the Doctor grabbed the paper and read it.

"You have GOT to be kidding me," he said, dropping the psychic paper in frustration. Truman bent over to pick it up, and read what it said.

"'Telltale heart, you are cordially invited to solve a mystery with me.' What does that mean?" Truman wondered aloud, as the Doctor scratched his head in frustration.

"It means," the Doctor began, hesitating to finish his sentence, "that Edgar Allan Poe needs my help. AGAIN."


	16. Assembly of Phantasms: Prequel

_Hey guys, hope you're enjoying the Adventures of the Nth Doctor! I'm going to try and create a schedule of publishing the parts soon, but until then I hope you stick with it. Make sure you follow the story if you really like it, review it so I can make it all the better, and enjoy THE ASSEMBLY OF PHANTASMS!_

* * *

If Edgar Allan Poe was being honest with himself, he was quite sick of people coming to him with their ghost stories.

Every day someone new would come onto his doorstep, complaining of orangutans and other anomalies that they expected him to solve. They would plead with him to contact his creation, C. Auguste Dupin and solve the mystery. Every day he would turn them away.

"Go away, I am very busy," he would say not too politely, his cold eyes bearing deep into the soul of the demander enough to make them scamper away. He gained quite a reputation from that.

However, one day someone came to him with a rather intriguing proposition.

"You are familiar with Castle Island, yes?" the person asked, prompting Poe to nod solemnly.

"Yes, I served at Fort Independence on the island when I was enlisted. I hated it there," he replied gruffly. The person grew nervous, unaware that Poe hated most places he had been to.

"Well, there are rumors, stories of an unknown evil plaguing the fort. A terror to rival your stories." Poe looked the man over contemptuously. There was no evil that could match his pen. He was incensed.

"I don't believe you," he said pointedly, taking the nearby bottle of whiskey and pouring himself a glass. The visitor looked longingly at the bottle, but Poe did not offer him any.

"We will pay you handsomely to come and see for yourself," the man desperately added. Poe took a swig from his glass, sighed, and looked at the man.

"You're lucky I'm currently bored."

Soon Poe found himself back on the island he had considered his prison, the island that had actually served as inspiration of _The Cask of Amontillado _when he heard stories of an officer who was walled up in the fort. He looked over the stone walled structure with absolute disdain, why did he agree to come here.

"The spirit usually resides in the supply shed," the man yelled over the wind from the sea, and Poe allowed him to lead the way. As he made his way into the fort, he noticed the strange lack of life besides their own within. This was supposed to be an active fort; why were there no guards stationed at the entrance? Someone should have noticed their presence and stopped them, and yet no challengers approached them.

"In here," the man said, holding open the door to the shed. Poe stared at the man, who looked nervous and yet strangely gleeful as he gestured inside. Poe walked into the shed, immediately taken aback by the coldness that resided within.

He searched for a lamp, hoping to shed some light in the shed, but found nothing. However, he noticed a strange ambient light was allowing perfect vision within the supposedly dark room.

The door slammed shut behind him, and Poe ran to it and found it still unlocked. The man was nowhere in sight, having fled the scene. He gave a silent curse at his foolishness; of course there wasn't a spirit here. It was another prank by a young fool hoping to tell a tale about the time he trumped the great mystery writer. He was about to leave when he felt a cold dread clench his heart. He turned around, and saw a looming figure appear from nowhere.

The figure was tall and gaunt, and shrouded from head to foot in the habiliments of the grave. The mask which concealed the visage was made so nearly to resemble the countenance of a stiffened corpse that the closest scrutiny must have had difficulty in detecting the cheat. His vesture was dabbled in blood -and his broad brow, with all the features of the face, was besprinkled with the scarlet horror.

"The Red Death," Poe whispered, as he turned to run from the shed. The figure followed him, slowly but menacingly. As he looked back at his creation come to life, he tripped and fell, hitting the ground with enough force to daze him.

"Well, I think I need to procure some help in this case," he said dazedly as he thought of the one man who could save him.


	17. Assembly of Phantasms: Masque of Doctor

_Hi guys! Sorry for the delay in the story, I had a bunch of finals and reports I had to get out of the way for college. I should be able to do at least one part a week from now on since my schedule's dying down for summer. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this next installment, where we get a little backstory on Poe and the Doctor. As always, share this story with people if you like it, favorite it, and be sure to follow the story to get the latest part as soon as it's released. Allons-y!_

* * *

"But Doctor, we HAVE to go and help him!" Truman persisted as the Doctor ran around the console rejecting his claims.

"I refuse to help that man!" the Doctor said, his head held high in defiance as Truman chased him around and Windsor leaned up against the wall looking absolutely bored.

"He's only the greatest writer of all time!" Truman exclaimed. "My god, he basically created the detective novel, PLUS he is the master of horror!"

"I'd love to have that debate that greatest writer claim with you at some point, Truman," the Doctor replied. "But we have more important things to save and sights to see than the bloody drunkard who wrote _The Raven_."

"Doctor," Windsor interrupted, finally having enough of their argument. "Truman does have a point. He's a significant figure in history, even if he is American. We probably should try and save him."

The Doctor sighed, placing his hand on the console in exacerbation.

"I suppose you're right. As much as I hate to admit it, he's a literary icon. FINE!" He threw his hands in the air, and they landed on the controls of the TARDIS as he plotted a course to Edgar Allan Poe.

"WE'RE GOING TO SEE POE!" Truman yelled as he shook Windsor by the shoulders. Windsor pushed him away and brushed himself off as he shot his companion a dirty look.

Suddenly the TARDIS doors swung open, and a very disheveled looking Edgar Allan Poe entered. Truman gave what can only be described as a high pitched squeak of excitement and fell to the floor unconscious.

"Don't mind him," Windsor said to the confused author. "Big fan of yours. Cites you as being the inventor of the horror genre."

"These are what pass as companions these days, Doctor?" Poe mused as he gave a skeptical look at the passed out Truman and the pissed off Windsor. The Doctor looked at him scornfully.

"These are very brave people, Edgar, and I won't suffer you insulting them," he said.

"Wait, was Edgar Allan Poe a companion of yours, Doctor?" Windsor asked incredulously.

"Yes, and he was dropped off for disobedience," the Doctor murmured as Poe began to explain.

"That's not why I was 'dropped off', Doctor and you know it," Poe exclaimed, but the Doctor held up a hand.

"Just tell us why you need us and we'll be on our way."

"It's the Red Death, Doctor," Poe admitted. "The Red Death is walking among us. My god, he was exactly as I pictured him." His face turned white as he remembered the image, and a visible shudder ran through him.

"Have you been drinking again, Poe?" The Doctor asked as he circled the author and sniffed the air around him. "You reek of drink."

"Yes, I've had a glass or two," he confessed, waving it off quickly. "Not enough to cause this. This is reality, Doctor, not an image conjured from the recesses of my mind."

"EDGAR ALLAN POE!" Truman yelled from the other side of the TARDIS, having awoken from his shock-induced slumber. "I AM A HUGE FAN OF YOUR WORK! DUPIN IS GENIUS, AND THE WAY YOU WROTE TELLTALE HEART WAS SIMPLY RIVETING!"

"Funny story about Telltale Heart…" Poe began, bemusedly looking at the Doctor in the corner of his eye. Upon seeing his rage boiling he quickly switched topics. "Anyways, he is real, Doctor, and I beg you to take a look." He walked out of the TARDIS and bade for the three of them to follow.

"Truman, hang back a moment," the Doctor asked firmly, making the eager Truman stop in his beeline towards his literary idol. The Doctor brought his two companions close to him and spoke.

"I do not trust this man. There was a time where he held high esteem in my eyes but I no longer feel that way. I implore you both to not take his word as the gospel truth. Understood?" Windsor nodded, and after a second Truman too nodded reluctantly.

They followed Poe outside to find a bright and sunny fort and a very confused author.

"He must have dissolved in the daylight," Poe muttered as he paced back and forth in front of a shed that Truman guessed held guns and ammunition for the fort.

"So there's no 'Red Death' then is there?" flustered the Doctor as he shook his head in disappointment. "You had such potential, Poe, and you drowned yourself in drink and ruined it all."

"I swear on Virginia that it was here," he said, his eyes filled with sadness and woe.

"Isn't that a state in America?" asked Windsor.

"It's also the name of his dead wife that died of tuberculosis," nudged Truman. The Doctor walked over to the author, who was on his knees in sadness and confusion and shared tense words with him. Truman could tell the Doctor was trying to hold his temper, and that Poe was truly believing what he saw was true. Then the Doctor broke off from the conversation.

"Ok, we have decided we shall wait until nightfall for the Red Death to arrive," he said with a reluctant tone to his voice. "Until then I think we should explore the castle. Let's split into pairs. I'm with Po…"

"I think I shall take the obsessed fan of mine," sounded Poe from behind the Doctor, having recovered from his episode and was now looking rather collected. "We have much to discuss."

"Out of the question," asserted the Doctor as he shook his head vigorously.

"Please please please please let me go with him!" Truman jumped up and down like a young girl trying to convince her father to get her a pony. "I promise to be responsible!"

"Fine," the Doctor intoned, but brought Truman close to him again. "But remember what I said about him. Don't trust him." Truman nodded, and then happily followed Poe to the right side of the fort.

"So how did you come to be a companion to our dear Doctor?" Poe inquired, looking at Truman with grave eyes.

"My workplace was taken over by alien forces," Truman replied, excited to be talking face to face with his idol. "How about you?"

"There was an incident involving an axe-wielding corpse of George Washington running rampant in Baltimore of all places," he said with a slight chuckle. "Turns out it was an artifact from another planet that reanimated the deceased. That was the first of our many adventures. A lot of them served the basis for some of my stories."

"Forgive me for asking," Truman began, "but how come you didn't last as a companion."

"Funny story, that," Poe said with no humor in his voice. "We were on the case of a homicidal alien who could take the form of any life form it assimilated, I think the Doctor called it a Zygon. We had split up, looking for the alien on a street we knew it had to have been. The Doctor was the one who found the creature, but he was cunning enough to get the better of him."

"What happened?"

"The creature knew that the Doctor was the one searching for it, so when his back was turned the being knocked him unconscious with some sort of device and then killed him. As the Doctor's companion I'm sure you are aware of what happens when the Doctor's life is threatened, but he was far enough away from his TARDIS that it didn't happen right away. Thinking the Doctor dead, the Zygon tore up its floorboards and placed the Doctor inside."

"How did he escape that?" Truman, shocked from the story he was hearing asked.

"That's where I come in," Poe said with a joyless grin. "The Doctor had told me that we were to meet at a park, and if he or I did not arrive within a half hour of our scheduled meeting time that the other should look for him. So when the half hour was up, I started to search his houses. I came upon the Zygon's house and was greeted warmly by the creature in its human form. He invited me in with such confidence I was almost positive he wasn't our man. He placed seats for both of us on top of the very spot the Doctor lay, and over a cup of tea chatted with me."

Truman giddily jumped around, for he guessed the ending before Poe had finished the story. Poe gave him a weary look, and Truman immediately stopped.

"Anyways, as we were sipping our tea, I heard this enormous thump-thump, then another a second after it. I could tell the creature did to for a look of sheer panic enveloped his face. I played the fool and pretended to not hear it. Soon the noise appeared again, and the creature began to sweat. I sipped my tea and made conversation until the thumping became so prominent that the creature looked to be at a peak of madness. Then his resolve broke.

'CAN'T YOU HEAR IT?' he roared at me as I continued to unabashedly sip the tea. 'THE BEATING OF THE HUMAN'S HEART THAT I BURIED UNDER US?' He tore the floorboards up as he spoke, and as they all disappeared, the Doctor, who at that point I did not recognize because of his new incarnation, rose from the floor. He said something heroic as he always does and the Zygon fainted from shock."

"My god, what a riveting story!" Truman whispered in excitement.

"It's not done yet," Poe said. "After we disposed of the Zygon and the Doctor convinced me of his identity and explained that he was too weak from the regeneration to signal to me or try and get out, he made me swear I wouldn't tell a soul about this incident. So naturally I wrote a story about it."

"The Tell-Tale Heart is about the Doctor? The old man in the story is the Doctor?" Truman laughed, amazed by the sheer insanity of the situation.

"Yes, and because I wrote that story, which he knew to begin with I would write since he's a Time Lord by the way, he decided to leave me to my devices. I turned deeper to alcohol, deprived of my adventures with the Doctor." Poe sighed, and Truman stopped laughing.

"Well, he's back now, Poe. Maybe you can join us again!" he said with a hope that made Poe smile.

Suddenly around the corner sounded a low howl that turned into a deafening roar. Truman and Poe stopped in their tracks, frozen by the sound. A hulking shadow appeared in front of them, a shadow attached to a large beastly creature covered in silver fur and bearing vicious fangs.

"Is that a werewolf?" stuttered Truman, as Poe stared at the beast in disbelief.

"Whatever it is," Poe whispered to Truman, "I don't think it's going to allow us to live."


End file.
